


Whose Fate is Placed in Your Hands

by MissReneeChan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Bigotry & Prejudice, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy!Castiel, Frottage, Imprisonment, Knight Dean, M/M, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Content, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 11:29:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 40,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2466617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissReneeChan/pseuds/MissReneeChan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, a boy named Dean found a lost and lonely fae child named Castiel in the woods and took him home. The years went by and the fae and the boy became best friends. Eventually, Castiel fell in love with the loyal, kind, brave boy and Dean fell in love with the generous, caring, selfless fae. However, the humans feared and distrusted the supernatural creatures of the world and would never accept a relationship between a fae and a Human, so neither had the courage to reveal their feelings for the other, until a tragic event changed both their lives forever</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story came from a need to see more more medevial/fantasy AUs in the Destiel fandom. Judging by what I've seen posted on the [DCBB LJ](http://deancasbigbang.livejournal.com/), I wasn't the only one feeling the need, which is awesome.
> 
> This is my first year participating in the DCBB, and I was extremely blessed to be claimed by the extraordinarily talented [kayaczek](http://kayaczek.tumblr.com/), who was an absolute pleasure to work with and created some absolutely STUNNING artwork. I highly encourage you to go to her tumblr and give her some love and praise.  
> You can find the art here: [Art Masterpost](http://kayaczek.tumblr.com/post/100237382007/whose-fate-is-placed-in-your-hands-masterpost)
> 
> I also want to thank my very patient (forgiving) and gifted beta, [sailorhathor](http://sailorhathor.livejournal.com/), for being so thorough and giving with her time. I can't thank you enough!
> 
> I owe some thanks to [schmerzerling](http://schmerzerling.tumblr.com/) ([her AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/users/schmerzerling)), who was a great cheerleader and put up with my throwing ideas at her like a madwoman as I wrote this thing. She's writing a DCBB too and it'll be up on Nov 13th!
> 
> Feel free to comment and give feedback! I love anything and everything I get. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!

“What can you ever really know of other people's souls — of their temptations, their opportunities, their struggles? One soul in the whole of creation you do know: and it is the only one whose fate is placed in your hands...”

― C.S. Lewis

In the old days, the fae of Neamhia and the humans of Mannazlund lived apart, but it was not uncommon for the two to interact. Human kind learned of the fae’s ability to control the elements of nature and their predisposition towards plants and animals. The fae learned of Human kind’s ingenuity with weapons and crafting and their determination to expand and learn.

However, both races’ differences and short-sidedness only led to their drifting apart. Humans failed to understand the fae’s proclivity for open affection and came to fear the fae’s awesome powers over nature and the elements. Fae found the human’s taste for propriety ridiculous and some fae believed humans to be less than worthy due to their lack of magical ability and lack of respect for nature

As time went by, the fae retreated further into their own kingdom and ventured out to interact with humans less and less. . They became less trusting of the humans and young foolish fae even went so far as to mock humans and even play cruel tricks on them. As a result, humans were less and less trusting with any fae they encountered despite who they were or their intentions. Rumors of the humans’ disdain and the fae’s trickery spread and escalated (as rumors do) and eventually, neither were willing to venture out of their own kingdoms tomake contact.

 The fae and human kind continued on without each other for over three hundred years. Neamhia entered into a time of turmoil as their land fell on hard times that even their powers could not help. Some fae wished to reconnect with humans in order to learn new crafting techniques and to trade for supplies. However, old habits of distrust and prejudice persisted and the population split into two factions: One supporting cooperation with Mannazlund and another clinging to the old ways. The new movement grew and became more outspoken and adamant until a civil war broke out.

Humans continued on in the usual fashion, conquering, expanding and prospering, though never expanding towards Neamhia. On the edge of Mannazlund, nearest to the fae kingdom, sat a small village called Lawreville where a family named Winchester resided. This story truly began here, with a boy named Dean.

 

 

Dean was only seven when he found the lost fae boy in the woods.  

He had finished his chores for the day and was heading through the forest towards the river. It was a balmy day and he was sweaty from his hard work. Caring for goats and chickens was a messy job. The river wasn't far, so Sam came with him and Dean had to make sure he didn't fall and hurt himself along the way. His dad would be mad if Sammy came back with scratches and bruises. He was only three and it was Dean's job to make sure he stayed safe.

Dean spotted the river and held a branch away from the path to let Sam through. Sam toddled through and gasped, "Wow!" like he'd never seen the river before. Dean grumbled about stupid baby brothers and ran out onto the bank. The river was low this time of year and there was no risk of getting swept away as long as they stayed on the correct side of the rock barrier in the water.

Dean immediately removed his shirt and his chausses, leaving him only in his breeches. He looked over and noticed Sam was having trouble undoing the laces on his chausses, so he went and helped the poor kid.  Once Sam was ready, Dean led him over to the swimming pool and waded in. It only went up to Sam's armpits, so as long as Dean made sure Sam didn't fall under or anything, he didn't need to worry.

Dean dunked under the surface quickly and the water was a relief on his sweaty, heated skin. He started rubbing the dirt and grime off of himself as Sam splashed around a couple feet away in the pool. "Sammy! Stop it," Dean whined as a splash hit him in the face. Sam just blew a raspberry at Dean and went on playing. Dean continued to wash, enjoying the cool water against his skin.

Sam wandered back up onto the beach eventually and started pushing sand into piles. "Sammy, you have to stay where I can see you! Don't go away!" Dean warned.

"Okay, Dean!" Sam said with a grin, and continued his sand sculptures.

Dean wandered into a deeper part of the pool and dipped under the water, swimming around and looking for pretty rocks. He liked to collect them and kept them in a hollow tree near their house. He wasn't seeing anything good, though. He came back up and gasped loudly, pulling air back into his lungs. Dean wiped his eyes of river water and immediately searched the beach for Sam. Sam had moved to another spot of the beach and was picking up sticks.

Dean ducked under the water again and returned to his stone search. He wriggled under the water, turning this way and that, eyes scanning the bottom. He spotted something promising, a glint of blue. He pushed himself over to the shining thing and plucked it up. Dean burst through the surface again and eyed the stone, fingers slipping over its smooth curves. A vein of sparkly gem ran right through the middle of it, reminding Dean of lake water. "Sammy! Look what I found!" Dean cried, looked up and found that Sam was not be found.

"Sammy?" Dean stumbled over the slippery river rocks and sand below his feet towards the beach. "Sammy!" he called, feeling fear creep in. He heard nothing in response except the gurgle of the river and the wind in the trees.

" _Sammy!_ " Dean screamed desperately.

If he lost Sammy, he was going to be in such _big_ trouble. If Sammy got _hurt_ his dad would _kill_ him. Dean ran across the beach, looking for any sign of the boy. He called Sammy's name so loud his throat started hurting. Tears started stinging his eyes and he was breathing fast. " _SAMMY!_ " Dean tripped and fell into the sand and it _hurt._ Sammy was _gone_ and Dean was going to get into so much-

Just then, a tiny light came bursting through the shrubs at the edge of the beach. It zoomed towards Dean, bounced around excitedly and zoomed back into the same shrubs from which it had appeared. Dean could only stare dumbly, he had never seen anything like _that_ before. When he was younger, his mother had told him about Will o’ the Wisps and the fae and their fairy light. Could this be something like that?

Again, the tiny light came through the bushes. This time, it was moving slowly as it danced around the far end of the beach. What was it? What did it want?

Before Dean could do anything, though, Sam came walking out of the same bushes, smiling at the ball of light.

Dean was up in seconds, running towards his little brother. "Sammy!" He slammed into the smaller boy and knocked them both to the ground. Sam immediately started whining.

"Deeeeaaaan! That _hurt!_ " Sam screeched.

Dean let the boy up and promptly set to checking him over for hurts or cuts. "Sammy! I told you not go _away!_ You _scared_ Dean!"

Dean stood and held out his hand for Sam to take. Sam's lip quivered and he stared down at his feet, but grasped Dean's hand dutifully and was pulled up to stand. "I'm sorry. I wanted to explore and I got lost. The boy was so pretty."

"What boy?"

"The light!"

"What?" Dean's face scrunched up in confusion.

"The boy in the light," Sam said, and pointed.

Dean looked to where Sam was pointing. A few feet away, looking sheepish and unsure was another boy about Dean's age. The boy was wearing fancy clothes, but they were torn and dirty. He wore a sort of pale bluish-greenish tunic, grey leggings and black leather shoes. His dark hair was unkempt and sticking up in all kinds of places.

"He's nice, he showed me the way back!" Sam said excitedly, and swung their clasped hands back and forth.

Dean moved forward, towards the other boy, pulling Sam along with him. The unnamed boy was very nervous, he kept fidgeting and looking around. Once Dean and Sam were close enough, he said, "Hi. You helped Sammy?"

"Yes. He was lost," the boy said, barely above a whisper.

"He was the light!" Sam exclaimed simply. Like that explained it or something.

The boy's gaze was locked onto Dean. "He was scared. I wanted to help."

Dean looked the boy over. He seemed normal, not like he had been a ball of light a few moments ago. "You were that ball of light flying around?" The boy hesitated to answer and Dean offered, "It's pretty neat. Are you fae?"

The boy jerked, obviously worried about Dean's reaction, but he still nodded. "Are you scared?" he asked sheepishly.

"No!" Sam declared loudly.

Dean laughed and said, "No, you were nice and helped Sammy. And it's neat that you can fly." A thought came to Dean. "Wait, do you have wings? Can I see?"

The boy's face softened and a tiny quirk of his lips told Dean that he did. The boy squeezed his eyes shut in concentration and opened them again before turning around. A pair of translucent wings sprouted from the boy's back, shimmering in the sunlight. They were only about a square foot in size, still small.

Dean's face lit up and he exclaimed, "Wow! They look like a dragonfly's wings! And they're blue!"

Sam giggled beside him and reached a hand out to touch the wings. The boy turned the wings away from the smaller boy's touch and faced them again.

"I thought humans didn't like fae," he said.

Dean frowned and thought about it. "Well, I think most people think fae are scary or something. But you're nice. I like you."

The boy finally smiled and said, "Thank you. You're nice too."

Sam spoke up, asking, "What's your name?"

The boy looked at Sam and pleasantly answered, "Castiel. What are your names?"

"Well, I'm Dean, and this is Sammy. We're brothers."

"I'm three!" Sam provided.

"Yeah, he's three," Dean confirmed with a shake of their clasped hands. "So, I've never seen a fae before. Do you live around here?"

Castiel shuffled his feet and mumbled, "I suppose."

"What do you mean you _suppose_?" Dean questioned.

"I- I…" Castiel's eyes began to water, and panic was clear on his face. "They were so scared. My brother Gabriel, he- they- told to me _run away_. I- I- was _scared_ and I flew so _far-_ " Castiel let out a sob and wiped at the tears on his cheeks.

"Wait, wait, Castiel, it's okay." Dean let go of Sam's hand and wrapped an arm around Castiel's shoulders. "Don't worry, you don't have to talk about it. You're all alone out here?"

Castiel sniffled, then wiped away a couple errant tears before looking at Dean with dewy eyes and nodding silently.

"You can't stay out here alone. That's not right."

Sammy piped up, "Dean! Dean! We should take him to Uncle Bobby!” He turned back to Castiel to explain. “He can help. Daddy’s in charge of the village and Bobby’s his friend. He knows all about magic stuff.”

Dean considered this for a moment and a toothy grin spread across his face. “Yeah! He’ll know what to do. Put your wings away, Cas. Come on!”

The boys stood in front of the Singer house at the edge of the village called Lawreville. It was so different from the fae villages that Castiel had seen in the few short years of his life. For one, all the houses were on the ground with dirt roads running in between. The houses were made of wood, but they were not grown out of trees the way fae houses were. They were nailed together and some were even painted white. Some even had two floors and what looked like fenced in areas for animals behind them. This house was nice, but a little worn down, and Castiel wondered if that was because Dean’s uncle lived alone as Sam had said. Castiel shuffled his feet nervously and watched carefully as people further into the village went about their days. He didn’t notice as Dean disappeared into the house, calling out to his uncle.

“Dean will fix ev’ryting! You’ll see!” Sam said as reassuringly as a three-year-old could manage. Castiel could only offer a nod as acknowledgement. He could hear Dean talking to someone inside. It sounded like a man, maybe an older one. Footsteps neared the door and it swung open. A middle-aged man stood there and he frowned down at the children on his doorstep. Castiel wasn’t sure that such a grumpy-looking man would want to help.

“Bobby!” Sam cried, and ran forward to wrap his arms around his legs.

“Hello, Sammy. Who’s your friend here?” he asked as he ruffled his hair.

“That’s Cas-Cas-Castiel,” Sam managed. “He’s a fae!”

Dean appeared from behind his uncle and bopped Sam on the head. “Sammy! Be quiet!”

“Heeeey,” Sam whined, and rubbed his head.

“Dean, don’t hit your brother,” Bobby growled. After a quick look around to make sure no one had heard, he said, “But yes, let’s get inside. Come in, Castiel.”

Dean’s uncle stepped aside and ushered Castiel in. Once the door was closed behind them, Castiel looked around the house. It was one big room with a large stone fireplace in the far corner, a cauldron hanging over the fire. A table sat in the middle of the room and two doors led away to other rooms.

Dean’s uncle walked to the table and pulled a chair out. “Castiel, take a seat.” As Castiel climbed into the chair, Bobby poured a cup of water for him. Dean and Sam also climbed into two of the other chairs.  Bobby took his own seat and watched as Castiel sipped his water.

“So… Castiel, you look a mess. Dean said that you’ve been living in the forest near the river.”

“Yes. I… had to leave home,” Cas said quietly. “My brothers and sisters. They told me to run away and I did. I- I  don’t…” The memories came swimming back and he felt his lip start to quiver in distress.

A warm hand settled down on Castiel’s head, then he was encircled in a tight embrace. “Okay, kiddo. It’s okay. We’ll figure something out for you.” He pulled back from Castiel and rubbed a tear away from his cheek. “Have you eaten, Castiel?” he asked as he stood and began rummaging around the kitchen.

Bobby found some snacks for them as the boys found new games for Castiel to learn. The boys were attempting to teach Castiel how to play pickup sticks when a knock came at the door. John had come by to pick up his sons.  Bobby moved over to the boys and said lowly, “Boys, let’s not tell your father about Castiel being a fae yet, alright?”

The Winchester boys nodded, but Castiel questioned, “Why? Dean and Sam know.”

“John isn’t too friendly to magic creatures, is all. Don’t worry,” Bobby placated.

Bobby moved to the door and let John Winchester in. He was a big-looking man with dark hair like Sam’s and a short beard. Dean looked up when the door opened. Sam leapt to his feet and ran over squealing, “Daddy!”

“Hello, Sammy,” John said affectionately, and lifted Sam onto his hip. John looked around for Dean and when he spotted Castiel, he asked, “Who’s this, Dean?”

Bobby stepped forward with a sigh. “John, this is Castiel. He’s been lost in the woods. Separated from his family. Dean found him at the river.”

Castiel felt his face heat up. He wasn’t sure how he felt about needing so much help. His brothers and sisters had always warned him about the humans’ distrust in fae, too. They told stories about the horrid things humans used to do to fae in the old days.

John eyed Castiel; the boy shrank under his scrutiny. Dean stood up and walked over to his father, looking wary. “Daddy, he’s real nice. He was scared and alone. I just wanted to help.”

Castiel felt a surge of warm feelings for Dean. The boy was really nice, even when they had just met today.

John tore his eyes away from Castiel and looked at his older son. “I know, Dean. It’s alright. You did well.”

John’s face turned hard. He looked over Castiel again, this time much longer with a much more stony expression. He took Sam off his hip and set him down. “You boys play. I need to talk to your uncle for a moment.”

Bobby left his pot of stew simmering over the fire and grumbled to the three boys, “Don’t worry, boys. Your father and I are just going to go talk.” He followed John into one of the other rooms. 

Dean grinned at Castiel, who still felt nervous. “Don’t worry, Cas. Bobby and Dad will figure something out.”

“I don’t know if your Father likes me,” Castiel whispered.

“No, he’ll like you. Bobby will change his mind,” Dean assured him.

When John and Bobby emerged, John announced that he would be staying for dinner and sat down at the kitchen table. The brothers looked to their uncle who offered a small smile to Castiel. “Castiel, I think we may have a solution for you. In the meantime, Dean, Sam, set the table.”

The rest of dinner passed with amiable conversation. John and Bobby talked about work in their co-owned leather shop, and Sammy asked Bobby to tell them a legend from one of his old books. Bobby regaled them with a story of a dragon and a princess who wanted to be kidnapped. The princess wanted to get away from her royal duties and expectations, and the dragon was lonely. Castiel enjoyed the story a lot and asked questions, but Bobby insisted they would finish the story another time.

When dinner was over, John ushered the boys outside to clean up at the water pump. Dean took Castiel’s and Sam’s hands and led them over to it. “Alright Cas, you gotta get all the dirt off your hands and face. I’ll pump the water.”

Dean reached up and pulled down on the lever. Nothing came out, but Dean kept pumping the lever. Castiel leaned over to look up the spout. “Cas, look out!” Dean yelled just as water came gushing out, splashing over Castiel’s face. Sam collapsed in a fit of giggles. Dean said, “I tried to warn you. Well, just scrub your face.” Castiel frowned and did as he was told.

The boys cleaned up and came back inside. Bobby and John were sitting by the fire. John looked up and said, “Boys, Castiel is going to stay the night with us. Dean, take the others home, give Castiel something to sleep in and get everyone into bed. The grown-ups need to talk.”

“Is Cas staying with us?” asked Sammy.

Bobby patted Sam on the head from his seat by the fire. “He is. For tonight.” He rubbed Dean on the head too and pushed him off towards the door. Then, he turned his attention to Castiel. He reached out and pulled him into his arms and gave him a gentle squeeze. “Get some sleep tonight. You’re safe here. We’ll have it figured out before morning.”

The arms around Castiel loosened and he headed off to follow Dean out the door. Dean took both Sam and Castiel’s hands again and led them only a few doors away to their own home. The Winchester house was a little bigger and nicer, and Castiel wondered if that was because Dean’s father was the village leader. Dean used a key from his belt to unlock the front door. They went inside and Castiel saw that the inside of their house was similar to Bobby’s. However, there were stairs where a door had been in Bobby’s house; Dean led them up to the second floor. They found the boys’ room and Dean started making a space on a plain straw mattress. When the door closed behind him, Dean looked up and beckoned Castiel over.

“Here you go, Cas. You can sleep here,” he said as he pointed to the mattress. He went to a dresser and tugged some clothes out of a drawer. When he returned to Castiel, he handed them over. “And those clothes are for you,” Dean said as he crawled into place on the mattress. Castiel took the clothes and quickly changed, leaving his once-fine clothes on the floor in the corner.  Dean shuffled over into the middle of the bed, throwing the blanket aside.

Castiel climbed on the bed and said, “There’s not much room.”

Dean’s cheeks colored. “Yeah, well, you can squeeze in.”

Castiel saw Sam on the other side of Dean, already asleep with the blanket covering half of his face. Dean must have seen him looking. “Sam always falls asleep super fast,” he explained. Castiel scooted in closer and pulled the blankets up to his chin.  He laid there for only a moment before Dean said quietly, “Cas, can you blow out the candle?”

Castiel turned his head and found the candle on a table next to the bed. He leaned over and blew the flame out. Now, it was dark and unfamiliar. It seemed like the darkness might crush him, it was so dark. His mind went to his brothers and sisters. He wondered if they were alright. They had all been so scared and nervous the day before he had to run. He missed them _so much_.

Dean moved next to him; he could feel the mattress shift below him. Castiel felt his lip quiver again. He also felt tears welling up in his eyes and his shoulders beginning to shake. Now he was going _cry_ in front of his new friend, and he didn’t want to cry.

“Cas?”

Castiel froze. Dean spoke again. “Cas, it’s okay. You can cry.”

Once again, Castiel was pulled into a tight hug. The tears in his eyes trickled down his face as he clung to Dean.

Dean asked, “Do you miss your family, Cas?”

Castiel nodded, his face rubbing against Dean’s shirt.

“I miss my mommy. She’s gone. I know how bad it feels,” Dean whispered.

“What happened to her?” Castiel asked shakily.

“She… Dad said that it was bad men that came and took her away when we were little. I don’t remember it much and Sammy was just a baby. Dad told me to take Sammy and run. So I did. Kinda like you, I guess. But when I came back, the bad men were gone and mommy was dead.” Dean was sniffling himself now.

“I’m sorry about your mother, Dean.”

“Me too, Cas. But Daddy says that we need to be strong and it’s my job to look out for Sammy. I take care of him, and I’ll take care of you too, okay?”

Castiel squeezed Dean tighter. “Thank you, Dean.”

The boys drifted off to sleep tangled up in each other, and Castiel dreamed of being held by his father again.

The next day, Dean showed Castiel around the house after he gave them a meager breakfast of bread and cheese. Dean’s father was already gone, working at the leather and blacksmith shop with Bobby.  He showed Castiel the small amount of animals they owned: A goat for milk and cheese and a few chickens for eggs and the occasional meal. The rest, they had to trade for at the small market just down the road.  Dean showed Castiel his crude little wood carvings. One was of a deer; Castiel had a hard time seeing the resemblance, but he thought Dean would be very good at it someday.

Dean also took Sam with them everywhere. It was amazing how much Dean loved and cared for his little brother, cleaning, cooking, and teaching him things. Sam talked quite a bit and asked a lot of questions, but it was obvious he was going to be a very smart, capable man someday. For now, though, Dean rarely let go of Sam’s hand.

After Castiel had helped Dean finish his morning chores, they visited John and Bobby at the leather shop and both men were happy to see the three of them. John greeted his sons, but sent them away because there was work to do and chores to be done. However, it was clear that John loved his children by the way his eyes softened around them.

That night, The Winchesters and Castiel went to Bobby’s for dinner again, and the night was just as pleasant as the night before. Bobby prepared a dinner of chicken and root vegetables.  Castiel was not used to eating such rich foods; the fae didn’t eat much cooked food other than the occasional bit of meat. The food was all good and he supposed he would get used to it someday, though it made his belly gurgle a bit at first. However, in the middle of dinner, John cleared his voice and gained the group’s attention.

“Castiel, did you know that Bobby lives alone?”

Castiel stopped mid-chew and looked over to Bobby. He tentatively shook his head.

Bobby spoke up then, though it was clear he was a little uncomfortable. “Yes.  I have this whole house to myself.”

Castiel looked around the table. Dean looked a little confused and Sam was just continuing to eat. John looked on calmly.

John spoke again, “We thought that you should stay with Bobby. So you’ll still be close by and Bobby is a very good man. You can trust him.”

Castiel’s eyes widened and he looked to Dean. A wide grin was splitting the boy’s face. “If you live with Bobby, I can see you every day!” Dean exclaimed. “You’ll love it, Cas! Uncle Bobby is great!”

Castiel swallowed the lump in this throat and turned his eyes to the gruff older man sitting at the end of the table. “You would do that?”

Bobby nodded, and the corner of his mouth curled upwards. “Yes, boy. You would be safe with me.”

Castiel only hesitated a moment longer before he said quietly, “Alright.”

Dean and Sam cheered. Castiel smiled at their exuberance. After dinner, the Winchesters left, and Castiel moved into Bobby’s spare room.


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel settled into his new home in Lawreville quickly with the help of Bobby and the Winchesters. At first, Bobby and the Winchesters told the other villagers that Castiel was a second cousin of Bobby’s whose parents had died of disease. In the beginning, Castiel almost believed his grumpy façade, but Castiel learned that is was exactly that, a façade. Bobby gave Castiel his last name and treated Castiel with patience and kindness. Castiel learned that despite his gruffness and tendency to call people “idjit”, Bobby was a very caring man. The villagers took pity on the poor duo and brought over extra vegetables from their cellars and a rabbit or game hen here or there. They seemed to be under the impression that Bobby would have a hard time taking care of a child without a woman in the house.

Castiel learned that Bobby had a wife once. A lovely woman named Karen who had also succumb to sickness like Castiel’s fake parents. From what Bobby had told him, she liked to cook and was a friendly, kind woman. Castiel would have liked to have known her. Bobby occasionally, in his more tender moments, told Castiel stories about how they met and fell in love, or how Karen had a way of making anyone smile.

Castiel learned to cook with the recipes she had left behind. Bobby was a perfectly adequate cook, but Castiel delighted in creation even if it was just the creation of a meal for loved ones. He supposed it was part of his Fae nature. Bobby said that Fae were known for their love of building beautiful homes and helping things to grow.  Bobby was grateful that a part of Karen was being kept alive and Dean was particularly fond of Castiel’s pies and tarts, especially the apple ones.

Dean was true to his words from that first night together. He appointed himself Castiel’s guide and protector while John and Bobby were working during the day. Dean introduced him to the village children because Castiel was a bit awkward on his own; He rarely understood the village children’s jokes and he took every conversation far too literally. Whenever the other children tried to bully or tease Castiel, Dean was there to defend him.

All through the years, Dean and Sam were at Castiel’s side. They played together, they explored together, they learned together and they celebrated together. Castiel was even given a birthday to celebrate each year: The same day he had been found and brought to Lawreville.  So, Castiel was officially half a year older than Dean, but they were essentially the same age. As time moved on, Sam began making his own friends and spent a little less time with Dean and Castiel. The two older children remained joined at the hip, though. They saw each other every day, even when Dean began to work in the leather shop with his father and Bobby.

John Winchester was a very strict man and was hard on Dean as they grew up. Castiel often saw John as a subject of scorn until Bobby explained that John had taken his wife’s death very hard. He used to be a more lighthearted, caring man, but now he spent many a night in the tavern with a bottle of liquor, staring at his wife’s wedding ring, spinning it on his finger. After that, Castiel looked on John with more pity and understanding, but still could not help but feel anger when John’s temper or parenting grew too harsh.

John pushed Dean to work hard every day and left most of the homemaking up to him as well. Castiel watched Dean practically raise Sam because John was always away working at the shop or dealing with his village leader duties. He was a busy man, but when Sam was old enough to help with chores, John also took the time to teach Dean, Sam, and (at Bobby’s request) Castiel how to defend themselves. John had been a warrior in the King’s army once upon a time, before he took up the leatherworking and blacksmithing trade.

Dean was determined to live up to his father’s expectations in all aspects of life: leatherworks, blacksmithing, combat skills, and even preparing to one day take over as village leader. Whenever he fell short in John’s eyes, whether it was Sam getting hurt or Dean forgetting a chore, John came down hard on his older son. John also rarely offered praise to Dean, usually just turning the potential praise to a comment on how Dean could improve even more. Castiel and Sam did their best to encourage Dean in his efforts and occasionally, Bobby would attempt to advise John on how to be more accepting. John would usually just shout and ignore him.

Sam was less inclined to vie for John’s approval.  He took more interest in academics than flirting and leatherwork. Meeting Castiel had inspired a passion for folklore about fae and other supernatural creatures. He also studied more common subjects like science, writing and especially law. Bobby eventually taught Castiel to read and the alphabet of men, though he already knew how to read and write in the fae alphabet and was able to teach Sam and Bobby. He and Bobby had much to talk about over the years, and he often borrowed books from Bobby’s library. John never understood this and often complained about Sam turning his back on his family, which only made Sam angry and draw away more. Dean tried to broker peace between Sam and his father, but his effort only ever kept tensions a bay temporarily.

With Sam’s developing interests and Bobby’s established one, Castiel would tell them and Dean stories of what he could remember before he came to Lawreville. He remembered fae houses grown out of trees and the much more colorful and revealing clothes they wore. He remembered the fae legends and stories that his family had told him, full of morals about respect for nature and using their powers for good reasons. Castiel told his adopted family about what he remembered of his family. He told them of Anael with her fiery red hair and Gabriel with his mischievous antics. The two oldest brothers, Lucifer and Michael, were typically working with Castiel’s parents, but he remembered them looking after the younger siblings in the weeks before Castiel came to Mannazlund. Dean was particularly surprised to learn about the fae’s preference for uncooked food from the earth.

Sam decided he wanted to move to the city and study at the university when he grew up. John didn’t understand his fascination with book learning, but he knew if anyone in the village could do it, it was Sam. Dean didn’t like the idea of his little brother moving to the big frightening city by himself where he couldn’t watch over him, but he knew Sam would be happy there. It was difficult for commoners to merit admittance to the university, but Sam worked very hard. Castiel just expressed his pride and confidence in Sam and comforted Dean when he would rant about his father letting Sam do whatever he wished while pushing Dean in so many different directions.

Castiel’s powers started to show more as he grew older.  When he became upset or lost control of his emotions, his wings would burst out or nearby fires or candle flames would jump and grow. Sometimes, water leapt out of cups and jugs. It became common enough that a rumor started circulating around Lawreville that some frustrated spirit had moved in and was expressing its discontent.

Bobby advised Castiel with what he learned in his books. Apparently fae had the power to control the four elements, some showing more aptitude for one element than the others. Castiel did seem to have a proclivity for accidently lighting things on fire. However, without anyone else who knew how to wield fae powers available to teach him, Castiel had difficulty learning to control his own.

That was how people in Lawreville found out about him and his fae nature.  Some neighborhood boys had been teasing him about the formal way he spoke and Dean was getting angry, trying to defend him. As the confrontation continued to heat up, Castiel was riled enough that the wings suddenly burst forth. The boys gasped in horror and surprise before they ran back to their parents. Dean took a crying Castiel back to Bobby’s and they both tried to calm the fae boy as he berated himself and sobbed that the village might make him leave.

John heard about the incident quickly and came to the Singer house that night. At first, John was furious that Bobby had kept the truth from him. Castiel shook in anxiety and fear as he listened from inside his room to John shouting and stomping around the main room of the Singer house. He said that Bobby had no idea what he was dealing with, _no one_ had had any contact with the fae in hundreds of years! He called Castiel an unnatural creature and that was when Bobby had exploded in anger at the village leader, raging about how John could _dare_ to call his boy unnatural! Both men’s anger abated eventually and John agreed to accept the boy’s fae nature. After that, it was cemented in Castiel’s head that Bobby was his father, if not in blood, certainly in spirit.

A crowd of parents had shown up on Bobby’s doorstep the next day and he revealed the truth. The villagers were hesitant at first, scared and ignorant. John had come along and as the leader of Lawreville, he defended Castiel as the innocent child he was and convinced them of that. Castiel hadn’t even fully developed any of his fae abilities yet; they were small and weak, Bobby explained. Fae may show a bit of their powers as children, but it wasn’t until they got older that they really started to develop. The crowd was satisfied eventually.

When Castiel began to go through puberty, his abilities began to become even more apparent. Castiel seemed to know what ailed the villagers’ farm animals with only a touch, and he found himself being able to heal sick plants in gardens and crops in fields. Bobby explained that fae have a close connection to nature and instinctively know more about plants and animals. Castiel could make fire grow and spread if it was dwindling. If he did too much, he would get tired and nauseous himself, though if he spent some time in the sun or the moonlight, he would feel better. Castiel had always enjoyed the feel of light on his skin, but it wasn’t until this point that he knew that it had anything to do with his powers.

The villagers learned to accept Castiel more and more as time went by. Castiel grew up a little awkward and wasn’t always the best at interpreting social situations, but he was so generous with his magical abilities and his time that it was hard for villagers not to accept him. He never asked payment for what he did, but Bobby and Castiel would find gifts of mulled wine, bread, or cheeses left for them at their door. Lawreville’s residents also saw that Castiel was such good friends with their leader’s son and came to love him as much as they loved Dean, who was admired for his hard work and eagerness to make people happy.

There were those that were less accepting, though. Certain older villagers and their children were stuck in their ways and still believed the stereotypes of fae being lying tricksters out to harm humans. Generally, they avoided Castiel, but occasionally a fight would break out and the bullies would learn that tangling with the fae was foolish; John’s combat lessons had stuck well with Castiel over the years. He was not one to be underestimated. Whenever Dean saw bruises or scrapes on Castiel, he would fume about people still insisting on being so close minded, was always proud of Castiel when he saw how badly the bullies had fared.

Before he had been revealed as a fae, Castiel had only been allowed to release his wings in private, around Sam, Bobby, or Dean. Castiel always enjoyed being able to relax and let himself be, well, himself. The wings had grown with Castiel and they reached his wrists when he held his arms out against them. They glowed faintly, but tended to burn brighter whenever Castiel was excited or upset. Bobby was careful to teach Castiel to keep his wings and powers under wraps, but he never made Castiel feel ashamed for his fae nature or his wings. His adopted family always admired and complimented his wings and Castiel appreciated their appreciation, especially when it came from Dean. Dean would encourage Castiel to let the wings out when they were alone in the woods or out at the river where no one could see. Dean especially seemed to enjoy them at night, where their faint light was the most apparent.

Dean was a good friend, companion and confidante all through the years. Castiel would comfort him when John berated him and was always willing to spar with Dean to keep their sword skills up. As time went by though, Dean’s sword skills eventually outmatched Castiel’s and even his father’s (Dean rarely beat John in sparring, however, to avoid bruising his father’s ego).

Castiel admired Dean greatly. He was charismatic and never struggled with the awkwardness that Castiel did. It might have been a skill developed out of necessity, due to his role in the village, but Dean found it easy to charm and placate people. He worked harder than anyone else in Lawreville, save his father, and he still managed to find time to care for Sam and keep their house in good repair.

As Dean grew older, he only grew more handsome and he developed a broad, sturdy physique. The young men and women from the village could not help but admire him as well.  Dean was flirtatious and friendly with everyone who approached him and even had a few trysts with a small selection of girls. He would go out to the small tavern within the village some nights and not come back until the wee hours of the morning, with kiss marks on his neck and shoulders. Dean typically only showed interest in the girls in the village, one named Lisa in particular. Dean was never very willing to commit to most of the girls who wanted to be courted, but Dean had actually considered Lisa.

John only encouraged Dean’s libidinous endeavors. It was one of the few areas of Dean’s life that John actually praised, so Castiel supposed he could understand why Dean would continue doing these things, since he generally craved any sort of positive interaction he could have with his father. John sometimes talked about the day that Dean would “meet _his_ Mary,” and give the lucky girl Mary’s wedding band that now sat on John’s finger. 

Castiel watched Dean with the girls of Lawreville and his heart would constrict in jealousy. Dean’s smile ignited blushes in Castiel’s face and hugs or friendly pats on the back caused fluttering feelings in his chest.  It only increased in intensity as time went by. Castiel never said anything about it, though. Dean was desirable as the son of a craftsman and village leader, and had no shortage of interested parties. However, nothing had come of it yet. Also, Dean had yet to express any interest in boys, so Castiel kept his infatuation to himself.

It was 13 years after Castiel had come to Lawreville and Dean and Castiel were 20 years old. Early spring was melting the snow on the roads and the trade routes were becoming more and more active. Nearly three day’s travel from the nearest large town, Brighton, Lawreville sat at the western edge of Mannazlund, nearest the Great Forest that separated the old fae kingdom, Neamhia. This caused Lawreville to be the last visited by traveling merchants, so news of the roads and trade activity were coveted by the villagers.

 Usually, the news of trade routes opening brought excitement and hope of new prosperity to the village. However, rumors of raiders attacking villages along the roads started circulating when merchants came through. An undercurrent of fear began flowing through Lawreville, and news of the raiders was never far from anyone’s mind. Then, some of the villagers’ relatives started coming into the village as refugees, their houses burned down or taken from them. They were bruised, battered and told tales of horrible surprise attacks in the middle of the night and the deaths of many people, man woman and child alike. The undercurrent of fear began to grow into a buzz of panic. That was when John and Bobby started to organize the village’s defenses. John was the most experienced warrior in the village and their leader, so the citizens looked to him for guidance. Dean was at his side the entire way, helping in any way he could.

Castiel was worried. Dean already had issues backing down from a neighborhood scuffle when Cas or Sam were teased as children. Now that the village and his family were potentially in real danger, Dean would never back down from any battle that resulted from a raid. Especially when John suspected that this group of raiders may be The Devil’s Brood, the same one that took Mary Winchester’s life. At hearing that, Dean was even more interested in a battle, and John was downright blood thirsty. Castiel thought about trying to convince Dean to play a smaller, more supportive role, rather than the direct, aggressive one he wanted to play, but he knew it was futile. Dean would never give up the chance to support or maybe even impress his father by helping to avenge his mother. Bobby tried to reassure Castiel that John and Dean could handle themselves just fine, but Castiel could see he concern in his eyes.

One day, Castiel was helping the Winchesters and Bobby peel logs for a fraise (a row of angled, pointed stakes) around the edges of the village by loosening bark from the wood with his powers. If he concentrated, he was able to create air pressure under the bark, lifting it away from the log itself, while the others peeled it away with their drawknives with much more ease than normal. John had warmed to Castiel over the years and with a threat looming, he was glad to have the help.

They worked silently and diligently. The air of concern tended to nip any lightheartedness in the bud. The group’s efforts were interrupted when Sam spotted a rider coming down the road. “Dad, look!” Sam said, his finger outstretched.

They all turned and spotted the rider, and Castiel recognized the shining armor for what it was. The garb of a messenger from the King’s army.  Bobby growled at Castiel to stow the powers for now, not wanting outsiders to see the fae boy.

John put down his drawknife and walked out to meet the rider. Their voices could not be heard from such a distance, but the group watched in interest. They talked for a moment and the rider handed down a scroll with a wax seal on it before he turned back down the road and rode away.

John walked back to the group. The Winchester boys ran forward to meet him, questions tumbling from them both.

“Dad, what did he say?” Dean asked frantically.

“What’s going on? Tell us,” Sam demanded.

John opened the scroll and looked it over. “A platoon of the King’s army has been deployed to help quell the raiders in their attacks. They’ll be here sometime in the next two or three days.”

Castiel breathed a sigh of relief. “So, we won’t have to fight.”

“I don’t know, Cas,” Bobby said. “One platoon isn’t much. The survivors of the raids said the bandits had almost 60 men. Platoons typically only have about 40, maybe 50 if yer lucky.”

“This is a half-assed attempt to protect the citizens at best,” Dean growled, and no one disagreed.

John rolled the scroll up and stuck it inside his tunic. “A letter like this can only mean the raiders are getting closer. We’ll have to continue our preparations, then. And hope the raider scum don’t come before the King’s men arrive.”

Dean spoke up and offered, “Dad, I’ll take a long shift tonight at the alarm bell.”

John nodded and agreed, “Good. For now, we have work to do.”

Sam stepped up. “I want to go on watch too,” he said.

John immediately shook his head. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Why not? I’m sixteen, and I-“

“I said ‘no,’ Sam,” John said with finality. No one said anything else.

The group set back to work on the fraise, and Castiel’s worry continued. He could not wrench his thoughts from the approaching danger. He worried for Bobby, his adopted father, the Winchesters, his adopted family, and Dean, who was… special to him. The refugees from the other villages had come to them with horror stories of murder and mayhem, and though Castiel had trained alongside Dean and seen his prowess firsthand, even the most skilled warriors fell in skirmishes. He trembled at the thought. He would have to do his best to protect his friend if it came to an actual battle.

                

That night, Castiel was lying in bed, reading a book that Sam had leant to him and rubbing his sore muscles from the hard day’s work. He had read the same paragraph three times in an effort to distract himself from the anxiety the messenger’s news had brought. How close was the Devil’s Brood? The palisade was well under way, but not finished. Were they ready? Was his family safe enough? The stories that they had heard from the refugees only spoke of cruelty.

When he heard the alarm bell sounding from the village edge, his mind went immediately to Dean who was standing watch that night. Castiel was out of bed in a flash and searching for the small amount of leather armor he owned and his sword. The sword wasn’t the highest quality, no one in the village could afford brand new, high quality swords, but John had made Castiel’s armor, so it was sturdy and would protect him well. Castiel pulled on his boots and rushed out of his room while trying to pull on his armor to find Bobby in a similar state.

“Bobby, Dean’s on wa-“

“I know! Boy, I know, go!” Bobby growled at him.

They rushed out in their disheveled state and immediately heard the sounds of fighting coming from the edge of the village. A glow of fire was in the sky. Castiel took off at breakneck speed, keeping an eye out for anyone he recognized. He was almost there, the source of the fire and the noises, when a horse came barreling around the corner, rider wearing a mask and holding a torch aloft. Castiel dove out of the way as the rider lit another roof on fire, galloping right over the spot where he had just been standing.

Castiel looked up and saw the rider fall off the back of his horse, an arrow buried deep in his chest. Wide-eyed, Castiel’s head whipped around. He spotted Sam Winchester down the way with a bow in hand as he nocks another arrow. “Cas! Go help Dean! I’ll keep them back!” he called to him. Castiel hadn’t even known that Sam could handle a bow and arrow with such precision, he was always so gentle and pre-occupied with his studies. Another arrow was loosed and found its mark in another masked marauder’s throat as he ran around the same corner the rider had. “Cas! GO!” Sam yelled.

Castiel gathered his wits about him and got back to his feet, rushing ahead. He noticed other people from the village rushing into the fight, men and women alike, and he silently prayed for their safety. Before he could even prepare himself, he saw a masked man running towards him. Castiel drew his sword and was thankfully able to block the attack. The strike shook his bones and his muscles screamed in protest, but they held firm. He lifted his leg and kicked the man in the stomach, knocking him down and the air out of him. After that, the raider was on the ground with Castiel’s sword in his belly.

Castiel watched as the man thrashed for a moment, coughed up a spray of blood, then went still. He had killed a man.  It had happened so fast, _he_ had acted too fast. He had no time to process, though. He had to find Dean and help defend the village. He pulled his sword from the corpse and moved on.

Ahead of him, chaos reigned. The noise of clashing metal and the roar of a fire assaulted his ears while Castiel felt the heat on his face. A fire was overtaking the outermost buildings and the village people were trying to hold off the attackers as best they could. There weren’t nearly as many of the raiders as the stories had said. Were they not here yet? Or were the stories just blown out of proportion?  He couldn’t wonder about that now. These people needed his help. Dean needed his help.

Castiel ran forward to aid a woman trying to defend her front door from a man forcing his way in. Castiel quickly slashed the man across the back, blood gushing out and across Castiel’s face. The man screamed, went down, and the woman’s terrified eyes locked onto Castiel for only a moment before she rushed inside and her door slammed shut.  Castiel moved on. He found a man he recognized as the village butcher fighting a large raider with an axe. He headed over to help, but suddenly he was on the ground, a dull pain in his side. He turned and another raider stood above him with the largest sword he had ever seen through the cloud of dust and smoke in the area. He froze and his heart stopped. The raider raised his sword, ready to plunge it into Castiel’s chest, and Castiel thought that he would never Dean’s face again.

When suddenly, he did. Dean appeared behind the raider and plunged his sword straight through the raider’s chest. He snarled and pushed he raider off his sword and to the side. Castiel stared up at Dean in shock and awe. Dean’s arms and face were covered in blood splatters and his chest was heaving under his own leather armor. His face ward hard and focused, almost frightening. Dean met Castiel’s gaze and leaned forward to offer Castiel his hand.

“C’mon Cas. Let’s go kick some ass,” he yelled over the din of battle with a wicked smile.

Castiel took his hand and was pulled to his feet. Dean called, “There’s only 20 or so of them, we can handle this!” Dean readied himself as another raider charged him. Castiel felt strength coming from standing beside Dean in this chaos. A feeling grew in his chest; suddenly, the burn of his muscles, the sweat on his palms and brow didn’t matter. He felt like he could do this, just him and Dean. Castiel readied himself as well. Together, they rejoined the fray.

It felt like forever, and Castiel was exhausted. His muscles ached, his knees were shaking and his lungs burned from the heat, smoke and dust in the air. They had lost some of the villagers, but even more raiders had fallen. They had found John and Bobby in the chaos and were able to protect most of the villagers. John fought with his sword and Bobby with his axe as they organized their fighter’s efforts as other villagers fled. They were bloody and bruised, but John had gazed at his son with such pride in his eyes that Castiel thought he could feel it too. The last few raiders were fighting when they heard a horn in the distance. All their heads turned towards the sound and a raider called out in victory. This was bad.

Castiel’s eyes found the road and saw what had the raiders cheering. A huge crowd of raiders on foot were charging towards the village, weapons raised and sounding battle cries. They seemed like a huge wave, menacing and inevitable.

“Dean!” he cried, unable to look away from the horde in his panic.

“I see it, Cas!”

Castiel would never be able to forget the sound of the pained scream that tore their eyes from the encroaching storm of attackers. Behind them, a raider had taken advantage of their distraction and slashed John across his chest deeply. John fell to his knees, then fully onto the ground. Castiel’s blood went cold and time seemed to slow—he _fel_ t too slow—as he immediately rushed to John’s side.

Dean let loose a frightening battle cry and charged at the attacker, chasing him away from his father before he could deliver the final blow. Castiel fell to his knees next to John, who was lying on his front. Bobby was elsewhere; Castiel heard him yelling to the others to get out and save who they could. Bobby’s voice was muffled; Castiel was distracted with his own desperate thoughts. They couldn’t win against that many marauders. Would they be able to escape? Could John move on his own? Castiel’s heart was pounding in his ears as he rolled John over to look at his wound. John groaned in pain.

“Mr. Winchester, hold still. I’m going to try-“

“Cas,” John gasped, a bubble of blood escaping his mouth. “Please, Cas. Get my family out. You have to save them.”

Memories of other loved ones yelling for him to run were crawling back and his throat constricted with anxiety, but Castiel shook them off. “No! I can still-“

“Castiel, please. I’m done for. Save _them_ ,” he begged, a hand digging painfully into Castiel’s arm. “Save my sons.”

He felt a hot tear roll down his face and he nodded to John. “Alright. I will. I’ll save them,” Castiel croaked around the lump in his throat.

Castiel pulled John Winchester’s hand off his arm and set it down, not looking at the man’s face, it was too painful, too distracting. He stood, turned and saw Bobby ushering people away from the oncoming horde and into the darkness of the night. He turned again and saw Dean fighting his father’s killer by the fire. He was too close to the horde, only yards away now. He would never escape in time. Panic raced through Castiel’s veins. Dean would _die_ unless he did something _now._ Castiel’s mind raced for options when he remembered the fire on the roof. Could he? He’d never done it with one so _big_ before. He had to try.

Castiel thrust his hands out to the fire and concentrated as hard as he could on what he needed to do. He needed to protect them, stop the raiders from harming anyone ever again _,_ he needed to save his family; he needed to save _Dean._ Something snapped into place in Castiel’s mind and he felt a rush of power surge through him as his wings burst from his back.

He willed the fire into action. It leapt off the roof and spiraled high into the air. The roar of the fire made it seem like a creature with a mind of its own, but it still reflected the vague inclination that Castiel had formed in his head. Moving like a snake, it arced and with terrifying speed it crashed into the horde of raiders, lighting them instantly. Screams filled the air, slicing into Castiel’s mind like razors. He watched as the men writhed and fell to the ground and a horrific smell drifted into the air. What had he _done?_ He had no idea that he had been capable-

“Dad! DAD!”

Dean’s scream of desperation cut through Castiel’s shock at his own abilities. He looked back to John’s body; Dean was crouching over it, crying out for his father to wake up. Castiel ran over and fell to his knees beside his friend. John Winchester’s eyes stared dully upward, body limp and slack as his son shook him. “Dad! Dad, please! Get up.” John did not move, though.

Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean’s shoulders and whispered, “Dean, I’m sorry. He’s gone.”

Dean struggled against Castiel’s embrace as best he could. He cried out, “No! He can’t leave us! He _can’t!_ ”

Castiel just continued to hold him through his struggles and protests and shed his tears alongside Dean’s. Only moments later, though, they heard another scream. Castiel’s head turned to see Sam standing there, staring in horror at what lay before him. Sam dropped his bow and raced to his father’s body, calling out, “Dad! DAD! Come _on._ _Please.”_ Sam whispered the last word as if he already knew it was too late.

Dean reached out and gently laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Sam…”

“I didn’t come in time. I couldn’t do it, Dean. I’m so sorry.”

Sam broke down into sobs and Dean finally wrapped his arms around his brother and whispered something to him that Castiel could not hear.

Castiel looked on, tears streaming down his own face. He had failed. Sam and Dean had lost his both their parents, the raiders had claimed too many lives and the village was burning. Castiel felt shame overtake him. If only he had thought to use his powers sooner. If only he had woken up earlier or volunteered for watch. If only he had been able to keep his family safe. Castiel started to shake as he felt the cold of the spring night wrap around him.


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of the villagers eventually returned to the wreckage at the edge of Lawreville where the boys were with Bobby in the lead. Bobby found the boys still clinging to each other next to John’s body. Bobby remained strong for the boys and was able to direct them despite his grief. The fires burned themselves out eventually, but some homes were claimed in the process. It was morning by the time that, between the four of them, they managed to bring John back to the Winchester house. Castiel could only offer so much in the way of comfort as they all grieved. Sam cried, and Bobby held him through it. Dean just stared blankly on. Castiel wished there was some sort of comfort to offer, but there was none. What could he possibly do for them now? He was left feeling useless in the face of such a tragedy.

They dug out a grave, but before John had gone into the ground, Dean, strangely emotionless in appearance, had reached out and removed two matching silver rings from his father’s left hand. He put them on his own right hand. Castiel had never taken notice of the rings before and wondered at their significance.

They buried John in the local plot, side by side with Mary. Dean marked the grave with a similar one to Mary’s -- a simple cross with his John’s name etched into it. The Winchester brothers, Bobby, and Castiel said their goodbyes and a few other villagers said a prayer over John’s grave, asking for his safe passage into the afterlife. Castiel held Dean’s hand the entire time.

They attended the other villager’s funerals and gave their condolences. After they had all said their words and their work was done, the villagers thanked Castiel for what he had done for the village with his fae abilities.  Castiel protested, wishing he could have done something to save John and the others, but they all insisted. Castiel acquiesced eventually and accepted their thanks and praise even if it was begrudgingly.

After all the funerals, it was late and they decided to leave the rest of the work for the next day. Castiel walked the Winchesters home as Bobby finished up business with some of the other villagers. They reached the door and Sam hugged Castiel tightly. Castiel hugged back just as tightly and whispered to the boy, “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more, Sam.”

Sam shook his head and pulled back. “You did everything you could, Cas. Thank you for saving my brother and Bobby,” he said tiredly, and wandered into the house.

Castiel turned his gaze to Dean and found the young man staring up at the sky. It was a clear night and the moon shone down brightly, lighting the green of Dean’s eyes. “I’m glad you got them, Cas. You got them all.” he ground out with venom.

Castiel tensed at Dean’s tone. “I didn’t do it for revenge, Dean. I did it to save you. And everyone else.”

Dean looked away from the stars, down to his feet. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I know. You’re not the vindictive type. But now they can’t hurt anyone else.”

Castiel nodded, acknowledging Dean’s point. “I am glad of that.”

“I should have been there, Cas. I should have _done something_ ,” Dean blurted out angrily.

Castiel rushed forward and tried to gather his friend into his arms, but Dean twisted away from him and went to the door, pulling it open. Castiel said, “Dean, I know you’re hurting. Please don’t feel like you have to shoulder all the grief by yourself. You’re not to blame for any of this.” He left the “ _I am_ ” unsaid.

Dean paused and looked at Castiel over his shoulder, his face inscrutable. “G’night, Cas,” He mumbled, and with that, he disappeared behind the door.

They began the work of clearing away the bodies of the raiders and begin repairs to the burnt and damaged homes the next day. Dean distracted himself from the darkness encroaching in on him by organizing the graves of the raiders with Bobby. Sam and Castiel offered whatever help they could to those who had lost loved ones in order to keep their minds away from their own grief. They helped clean, organize repairs, and gather supplies for said repairs.

Dean didn’t talk much as he felt the need to remain strong and stoic, though he knew Castiel could see through it. He always could.  Breaking down in front of the villagers and Sam when they needed a leader and guidance would be a shame to John Winchester, a waste of time, a distraction. Sam was a little more up front about his pain, crying audibly the night before and talking about it with others. In some ways, Dean wished it was that easy for him.

Dean and Sam stayed with Castiel and Bobby the next couple of nights, the boys saying they didn’t want to be in their old home anymore. It didn’t feel the same without their father; the empty bed, old trinkets and unused tools only reminded them of John. Dean wanted to be there for Sam, Bobby, and Castiel, but he knew if he let the grief in through the cracks, it might overtake him.  He would stumble under the weight of it all and who knew if he would recover? He saw Sam and Castiel go to each other in their sadder moments and heard them talking late at night. Bobby was a little more stoic, like Dean, but he would talk to Sam and Castiel about old memories of John and remember his fallen friend, working through his grief that way. Dean couldn’t even join in then, the memories only making him regret never making his father truly proud.

Their mourning period was interrupted when the platoon from the King’s army arrived two days later, led by a man on horseback. They marched to the entrance of the village and found the group of villagers digging large graves for the raiders. Bobby, Dean, and Castiel were in the same group.  Dean watched warily as the platoon leader stopped the soldiers and climbed down from his steed. He stepped towards the group and Bobby came forward.

“Hello. I take it you’re here to defend us from the raiders,” Bobby said with barely concealed disdain.

The platoon leader looked at the row of bodies waiting to be put into their graves. He was burly looking man with a short beard. “This must be almost 60 men,” he said, his surprise evident through his accent.

“It is,” Bobby said simply.

Dean’s grip on his shovel tightened, and he attempted to keep the fury he felt at the soldiers under wraps even though he could feel Castiel’s eyes on him. Dean muttered, “Why weren’t they here yesterday?”

Castiel reached out and out a hand on Dean’s shoulder. Dean looked to Castiel and they anger ebbed from Dean’s veins. Castiel’s concerned eyes and the memory of his lack of desire for petty revenge made Dean want to do better. He turned back to watch the Platoon Leader’s conversation with Bobby.

The platoon leader spoke again, “I’m sorry we weren’t here to aid you. I truly am.” And from the look of regret on the man’s face, Dean believed him.

Bobby must have, too. His posture softened. “Well, we managed.”

“I see that. How did you do this?” The platoon Leader looked over the huge scorch mark stretching over the earth. What were they going to do? They could trust the villagers with knowledge of Castiel’s true nature, but the rest of the world was still very unforgiving to those not like them. Dean’s mind raced. He had to give a plausible explanation for the scorched bodies and earth.

Before he could thin better of it, Dean took a step in front of Castiel and called out, before Bobby could say anything, “I did it.”

Castiel went rigid and tried to turn Dean towards him. He whispered, “Dean, what are you doing?”

Dean shrugged off Castiel’s hands and moved even further towards the Platoon Leader. The lie he told almost seemed to build itself as he spoke. “I devised a plan to used oil as a trap for the main body of the raider group. We lit it when then they came close enough. They all burned,” Dean said with such confidence that he almost believed it himself. The stranger looked him over.

“I believe you, boy,” the man said. “What’s your name?”

“Dean Winchester.”

“Dean, you’ve saved an entire village. You should be proud. Very proud.”

Dean merely looked at his feet and said nothing. He didn’t think he would ever feel that way. He failed in too many ways that night.

The platoon leader looked to Bobby and said, “My men will help you dig these graves and, if we can, help repair some of the damages to your village.”

“Your assistance would be greatly appreciated,” Bobby said politely.

The Platoon Leader yells over his shoulder, “Squads one, two and three, fall out and assist with digging! Squad four, fall out and set up camp! We’re going to be here a while.”

The platoon leader turned back to Bobby and offered his hand. “I’m Captain Benny Lafitte.”

Bobby shook the hand heartily and responded, “Robert Singer. Most call me Bobby.”

 

With the platoon’s help, the raiders were buried and most of the burnt rubble was cleared away within a few days. The platoon cooked their own meals and generally kept to themselves. Which gave Dean time to spread the word about his story explaining how they had defeated the raiders. At the same time, Captain Lafitte sent a messenger out to tell the Lord in the city that the raiders had been defeated, once and for all. The villagers thanked the platoon and its leader profusely, but could not offer much else. Most of the villagers were exhausted from their traumas and the soldiers from working all day. Those nights were quiet with grief and weariness.

It was one of these nights that Castiel finally confronted Dean about his lack of grief. Dean was sitting out on the riverbed where he had found Castiel all those years ago, carving a small wooden bird with his knife. He stopped and looked up at the stars and recalled a story he heard once about humans being made from the stuff stars were made of and that everyone eventually returned to the stars. He wasn’t sure he believed it, but it was a beautiful sentiment.

Footsteps sounded in the sand behind him and Dean knew who it was before the other man had even sat down next to him. Dean glanced at Castiel and saw his wings gently shifting behind him. Occasionally Castiel would let his wings out when he knew he was safe from unwanted viewers.

Dean liked it when Castiel did that. Castiel always seemed so ethereal and more at home in his own skin when he didn’t have to worry about hiding his wings or his powers. Dean had always admired Castiel’s fae abilities and his wings. Castiel’s wings were fascinating to Dean; they seemed to be made of magic and were incorporeal and tingled to the touch. When they were younger, Dean would beg Castiel to show off for him, making candles blaze, water slosh around in buckets on their own and occasionally even shrink into that little ball of fairy light he had seen on the riverside so many years ago.  And now, Castiel had used those same powers to save dozens of lives while Dean had been unable to save the one that really mattered.

“Why did you do that, Dean?” Castiel asked, jostling Dean out of his self-pity.

“Do what?”

“Take credit for the raiders,” Castiel explained as he settled his gaze on Dean.

“You know why I did that, Cas. Come on,” Dean grumbled.

“But-“ Castiel began, but closed his mouth quickly and fell silent.

“But what? Just say it.”

“If I had just… used my powers earlier, if I had just taken a moment to _think,_ I could have saved your father,” Castiel said, his voice laced with shame.

Dean stared at his friend in shock. How could Castiel think that Dean would blame him for that and leave him to be discovered by the authorities out of spite? How could Castiel think that his father’s death was _his_ fault?

“Cas, there was nothing more you could have done. I was the one standing _right next_ to him and I didn’t hear the attacker. You saved everyone’s lives, Cas, you have nothing to be ashamed of,” Dean said. He hoped that Castiel would believe him.

“Dean, you can’t blame yourself either, okay? There were several people there, myself included that could have noticed it, but didn’t,” Castiel pleaded. “Many people are alive because you were on watch that night, Dean.”

Dean shook his head and a cynical smile crossed his face. “Look at us, both trying to convince the other not feel guilty while we wallow in guilt ourselves.”

Castiel considered this a moment before saying, “I suppose you are right.” Silence fell over them and their gazes turned to the stars.

“I noticed the rings you took off your father’s hand,” Castiel said eventually.

Dean brought his hand up and twirled the silver rings around his finger. “Yeah,” Dean said quietly.

“Do they mean something to you?”

Dean nodded and let loose a long sigh. “Yeah. They’re my parent’s wedding bands,” he said as he stared at the glinting silver bands. “My dad told me he’d give them to me some day, so I could give them to my future fiancée.” Now, John would never meet anyone that Dean ever married. John wouldn’t give them their blessing or hand over the rings. Dean had to take the rings from his father’s lifeless hand.

“Dean, how are you doing?” Castiel asked slowly, keeping his eyes on the sky. “Really?”

Dean swallowed as a lump formed in his throat. He considered keeping his guilt and sorrow to himself. He wanted to be strong. He wanted to make his father proud in spirit even if he hadn’t been able to in life. He turned and saw that Castiel’s face had turned towards him while he had been internally debating. Castiel’s eyes bored into him and he suddenly had the impression that there was no use in hiding.

“I wish I could have made him proud of me. Even just once,” Dean said shakily. “I’m also so angry at him for dying before he could see Sam attend university and get married. He left before I could take the village leader role. Instead all I did was fail to save him.” He felt his bottom lip quiver. Castiel kept his stare fixed on Dean. “I wanted so much to be like him, Cas and I never got there. Now, I never will.”

A hand closed over Dean’s and squeezed gently. Dean closed his eyes and felt the tears fall.

“Dean, he was proud of you. There was a moment, during the fight, I saw him look at you and I could see it on his face, in his eyes. He was _so_ proud you. And when he died, all he cared about was yours and Sam’ safety. He loved you, Dean and he _was_ proud. I’m just sorry you never saw it.”

Dean squeezed Castiel’s hand in return. And sniffed, trying to hold back the tears.

“Dean, you once told me that it was okay to cry,” Castiel said quietly as he scooted closer to Dean and wrapped an arm around the other man’s shoulder. “You can cry, Dean. It’s alright.”

Dean let out a desperate sob and curled in on himself, feeling his sadness take over him. More tears spilled down his face and cried, “I’m never going to be the man he wanted me to be, Cas. How can I do it _when he’s not here?!_ ” Dean lashed out and threw a rock viciously at the water and it landed with a large splash.

“Dean, look at me,” Castiel commanded, and Dean managed to lift his head to meet eyes with him. “Dean, you cannot give up on yourself. You will be a great man, a man John Winchester would be proud of, a man he could never be. You just can’t give in to this self-doubt. You are a good man, Dean Winchester and you _will_ do your father proud.”

Dean stared in awe at the determination and passion in Castiel’s eyes as they bored into his own. Castiel believed in him so much. He trusted Castiel with his life and Castiel was smart, how could he so wrong about Dean? If he had Castiel there, believing in him, maybe one day, Dean might make something of himself.

“I can’t do it alone, Cas. I need you to stay with me,” he said.

“Of course, Dean. I would never leave you.”

The platoon stayed longer than originally expected. They all seemed happy to help and they got along well with the villagers. Maybe they were happy to escape their normal routine. Who knows? Benny sought out Dean several times and was an interesting enough guy. He was kind to Castiel, Sam and Bobby, so he was alright in Dean’s opinion. The more they talked, the more he found Captain Lafitte to be fair, even tempered man and the struck up a tenuous friendship.

The village was recovering well enough, but repairs were still long from finished, and everyone was starting to look to him for answers and support. Dean didn’t know how he would have made it if Castiel hadn’t been there to help him. And Dean knew he’d never be able to thank Castiel enough for saving the village and his family by ridding the world of those raiders. Dean was beyond grateful; he owed Castiel his life.

Dean had other things to worry about, as well. Like his family. The subject was a constant source of anxiety in the back of his mind. Dean knew how to do leatherwork, but nowhere nearly as well as his father. They had thought they had years left for Dean to learn the trade. Bobby couldn’t run the shop alone and train Dean and pay Dean, and Dean couldn’t work for free. Dean needed to find work. He needed to take care of Sam and support his family.

The issue was solved by a surprise visitor almost a week after the attack. Captain Lafitte had told Bobby and Dean to expect an important visitor and word spread fast across Lawreville. Who could it be? The night before the visit, Captain Lafitte revealed it to be the Lord of the land, Duke Henriksen and the village was suddenly bursting with curiosity and excitement. Captain Lafitte would not explain why other than it had to do with the defeat of the raiders. Was the Duke coming to reward the village for Dean’s supposed act of heroism?

Captain Lafitte, Bobby, Castiel, the Winchesters, and a small crowd of village lookie-loos stood near the entrance to the village to receive the Duke. They were all dressed in the finest clothes they had and formed a line in front of the small gathering. Captain Lafitte’s platoon stood in formation nearby, all standing at attention. Dean couldn’t stop fidgeting until Castiel reached out and held his hand for a moment. Just a moment, but it was enough.

Soon, a procession of horses appeared on the horizon. Riding two by two, knights in shining plate armor made their way towards the village. Between the lines sat a finely adorned man riding a white horse. Everything he wore was shined to perfection and his horse was no different: expertly groomed and seemingly impervious to the dust from the road. When the first knights in the procession reached the entrance to the village, they all stopped.

The man regarded the rag-tag group as he approached and looked to Captain Lafitte, who announced, “Lord of the land, Duke Victor Henriksen!” Dean, Castiel and the others bowed respectfully as the Duke dismounted with help of his page. 

The Duke made his way towards them and commanded, “Rise and be at ease. I would prefer to speak candidly.” He looked to Captain Lafitte and pulled the man into a hug. Dean was a little taken aback, Captain Lafitte hadn’t mentioned that he was on such good terms with the Lord.

“Benny, it’s good to see you. We don’t talk enough anymore,” the Duke said warmly.

“I agree,” Captain Lafitte said with a smile, and gestured towards the Winchesters. “My Lord, this is Dean Winchester, the young man I mentioned in my message.”

Dean jerked in surprise. Captain Lafitte had told the Duke about him? Why? The Duke approached and Dean quickly bowed again. What could the Duke possibly want with him?

“Rise, Master Winchester. You have done our land a great service.”

Dean straightened himself and quickly glanced at the Captain, who only wore a smug smile.  Dean responded, if a bit nervously, “I only did what was right, Your Grace.”

“Even so, you have accomplished what the King’s army could not, and you have saved lives from danger and destitution. You shall be rewarded.”

Dean floundered, “Your Grace, I don’t know what to say-“

The Duke raised his hand and Dean stopped. “This reward will benefit me as well, Master Winchester. I have been told that your father, the village leader, perished in battle, and your family is in need of support.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Dean said simply, trying not reveal the pang of sadness he felt at the reminder of his father’s death.

“Master Winchester, no Baron or knight has been here to look over the land in many years. I aim to remedy this and I would prefer a person who knows this part of the land.”

Dean’s eyes widened as understanding overtook him. Would the Duke do that? Really? He even heard a surprised murmur from the group of villagers behind him.

Dean’s suspicions were confirmed by what the Duke said next. “I am in need of a new knight to serve under me and watch over this part of my land. You would have certain duties. Tax collecting, enforcing the law and settling disputes in my stead. You are young; I would provide some advisors to help you at first. However, my Captain says you are well respected by your village and of fair mind, and I trust him.”

Dean had no idea what to say. Of all people the Duke could have considered, _him_? His mouth opened for a response, but nothing came. He looked to his family, who all looked just as shocked as he did. Castiel spoke out, however. “Dean… no one deserves this more than you.”

Dean felt the warmth of confidence bloom in his chest and looked to Sam and Bobby, who both just gestured for him to turn around and accept. Dean faced the Duke again. “My Lord, thank you. I can’t think of a higher honor.”

The Duke smiled and nodded. “Kneel, Master Winchester.”

Dean’s mind raced as he lowered himself to one knee. Is this really happening? As a knight, he would be able to take care of his brother and pay for him to go to university, even help Bobby and Castiel. Was he really ready to do something like this, though? Could he be a _knight_?

The Duke drew his sword and spoke. “Dean Winchester, do you swear fealty to The Crown, his highness Samuel Colter, and swear to defend his lands against danger and treason?”

Dean nodded and said, “I do.”

“Do you swear to conduct yourself with honor and chivalry to those of all rank and creed?”

“I do.”

“Do you swear to defend those who cannot defend themselves and deliver justice to those who have escaped it?”

“I do.”

“Then, by the power vested in me in by the The Crown…” The Duke tapped the top of Dean’s head with his sword. “…I dub thee…” He tapped Dean’s left shoulder. “…Dean Winchester…” He tapped Dean’s right shoulder. “… _Sir_ Winchester. Rise, Sir Winchester, and take up your duties.”

Dean stood, feeling a strange tingling sensation in his fingers. His head began to swim and he tried to steady his footing. Was this real? Had this actually happened to _him?_ The Duke smiled at him and said, “Congratulations, Sir Winchester.” The Duke offered a handshake. Dean was hesitant, but he took the Duke’s hand and shook it firmly.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” he responded weakly.

“Now, I must move along. I’m on my way to visit Baron Sandover in the next county. It was good to meet you, Sir Winchester. Don’t disappoint me,” the Duke said as he made his way back to his white horse.  He mounted the beautiful beast easily and addressed Captain Lafitte. “Captain, I’m going to take most of this platoon along with me to see Baron Sandover. Choose three soldiers and help Sir Winchester set up in Carlow Keep. I believe you know where it is. I’ve already sent some correspondence along to help. I’ll have some supplies sent along as well.”

Dean perked up at that. “Carlow Keep? But that’s been empty since-“

“Since Baron Elkins died, yes. About 30 years, actually. But a family was left there to remain as caretakers,” Captain Lafitte supplied as he looked to his platoon. “Wilson, Talley, Gallagher! Fall out!” Three soldiers fell out of ranks and joined the Captain at his side.

“Farewell, Sir Winchester, and goodbye, Benny,” the Duke said finally, with a smile. He called for one of his guards to take charge of the platoon and only moments later, he and his procession rode back down the road and out of sight.

As soon as the Duke was out of ear shot, Dean was tackled by his too-tall little brother. Castiel and Bobby only looked on, smiling.

“Dean! This is _amazing_!” Sam cried. He sobered as he said, “Mom and Dad would have been so proud.”

Dean nodded to his brother, happy to see him excited about something after all the sadness of the past week. He turned to Captain Lafitte, finally asking the question that had burning in the back of his mind. “Why did you do that? Recommend me for knighthood?”

“It’s simpler than you think, Sir Winchester. I know that this area needed a good man to look after it, one who was respected and knew the land. I probably would have recommended your father if he had survived, but you seemed just as worthy even if you are a bit young,” Captain Lafitte explained.

“I- I don’t know what to say. Thank you. For my family,” Dean said sincerely.

“Remember what the Duke said - you will have many duties and expectations. This will not be easy. For now, though, I am here to help. I am at your service, Sir Winchester,” Captain Lafitte said graciously.

Dean turned back to his family and looked to Castiel. “Cas, I’m a _knight!”_ he exclaimed, and then something occurred to him. “I’m a _noble_ now!I’m going to live in a _Keep._ You and Bobby have to come with us, you _have_ to! You two and Sammy are all the family I have left. This is the least I can do for you. Bobby can work in the leather shop at the Keep. Keeps have leather shops, right? And blacksmiths? And you can cook and work in the garden, you’ll love it!”

Castiel glanced at Bobby, and Bobby nodded his affirmation. Castiel said, “Of course, Dean. We’ll come with you.”


	4. Chapter 4

The night after Dean’s knighting, a party was held in the small village tavern. The villagers cheered for him and opened a keg of ale to celebrate the only good news they had gotten in a very long time. The villagers were sad that Dean and his family wouldn't be in the village any more, but they were proud of Dean and happy about his new knighthood. Dean received so many congratulations, hugs and kisses that he could no longer keep them straight by the end of the night. Dean and Castiel got very drunk that night and Castiel almost blew out all the candles in the tavern when he got too flustered at Dean’s teasing. Sam only watched their antics while sitting with Bobby and laughed.

It only took a few days to pack up their belongings and prepare to move to Carlow Keep. It was barely two miles from the village, so the journey would not be long or arduous. They set off to Carlow Keep with the Captain and his soldiers’ horses pulling the cart that carried the items that the Winchesters and the Singers could not leave behind: Mary’s hope chest, Karen’s cookbooks, Bobby’s library of books on the supernatural, Sam’s books, Dean’s woodcarvings and tools, and Castiel’s recipes and seeds for the new garden. They were assured that the Keep would have everything they needed. Everyone walked, not wanting to overburden the horses.

Dean talked to the soldiers that Captain Lafitte had chosen to come with them. Ava Wilson was a young woman that specialized in map reading and navigation; she had a bubbly personality and made Dean laugh. Andrew Gallagher was a gregarious young man who was best at scouting and tracking. Jacob Talley was not with them; he had been sent ahead to tell Carlow Keep of their impending arrival. 

Talking with the soldiers helped keep Dean's mind from the huge changes that were coming. He still doubted that he would be able to fulfill his duties as well as the Count and Captain Laffite seemed to expect, but he could not leave behind such an opportunity to support Sam and the the Singers. If he could, he would do as much good as possible in the position and make sure to have Sam admitted to the univeristy when he was of age. With luck, he'll stay in the background of high society, avoid notice and keep his family taken care of. No muss, no fuss.

They arrived at the Keep around mid-day. The road they traveled on lead into a clearing surrounded by tall, healthy trees. A field of thick grass surrounded the Keep itself. The Keep towered upwards, formed of what seemed to be four walls with bratizans projecting from the walls on each corner. It seemed small and a bit old, but basically a sturdy, cozy Keep.

They approached the low rampart that surrounded the Keep and stopped. Captain Lafitte called out with a booming voice, “HELLO, SIR WINCHESTER AND HIS PARTY HAVE ARRIVED AT CARLOW KEEP TO TAKE RESIDENCE.”

Only a moment later, a female voice called back, “HELLO! WE WELCOME SIR WINCHESTER AND HIS PARTY. WE WILL OPEN THE GATE!”

“I wasn’t expecting such fanfare over my arrival,” Dean muttered to himself, and asked Captain Lafitte, “That must be the family who acts as caretakers for the Keep, right?”

Captain Lafitte nodded. “I believe so.”

Something on the other side of the wooden gate clunked and scraped. Then, the hinges creaked and groaned as the large double door opened. A petite blonde woman appeared and bowed to the Captain. “Welcome, Sir Winchester, I am-“

Captain Lafitte cleared his voice and nodded towards Dean. The woman’s eyes flicked between the two men a couple of times and then realization dawned on her face. “Oh! I apologize,” she said with a slight blush as she turned to Dean. “Welcome, Sir Winchester. I am Ellen Harvelle, head caretaker of Carlow Keep. We received notice of your appointment yesterday. Everything should be ready for you, sir.”

Dean was not used to being addressed so formally, and he was not surprised the woman had assumed Captain Lafitte was the knight. He was dressed much more finely in armor complete with a sword, was older, and was more experienced. 

“Thank you, Mistress Harvelle. I’m sure everything will be fine. And please, I am not accustomed to such fine addresses and words. We can speak plainly.”

A small smile spread across the woman’s face. She had probably heard nobles claim they wanted informality before and later they scolded her for speaking to them in such a manner. She continued on as she had, regardless of Dean's instruction. “Of course, sir. Please, come in.”

She opened up the other side of the door and Dean led the group inside to a small courtyard. A small crew of people stood waiting for them, lined up in reception: a younger blonde woman, Mistress Harvelle introduced her as her daughter Joanna, a man with a strange haircut, Ashton, and a tall, thin man with a friendly smile, Garth. They all bowed politely and looked him over, trying to size him up and discern what sort of master he would be. Dean felt self-conscious; a knight didn’t usually wear peasant clothes and didn’t fidget under his servants’ stares.

He tried to straighten his shoulders and stand tall as he introduced his family. “This is my younger brother, Sam, and Bobby and Castiel Singer, honorary family members.” They all bowed back to the caretakers, smiling (except for Bobby, who was gruff as usual).

“And I am Captain Lafitte of the King’s army, Sir Winchester’s escort and temporary advisor, and these are my men,” Captain Lafitte added as he gestured to his soldiers who seemed antsy to get a move on.

“Welcome, all of you. We will show you to your chambers. Garth, can you unload their belongings?” Mistress Harvelle dictated, and led them inside another large double door. The castle was well-built from what he had seen so far. The Keep was well lit with iron candle sconces on the walls and iron chandeliers. There were no ornate carvings, just a few tapestries and glass windows.  Dean decided he liked its simplicity.

They walked into a long hall stretching to the left and right. Another large door was directly in front of them. “This leads to the main hall where you’ll hold court, meetings, and deliver verdicts on any disputes that are brought to you, Sir Winchester,” Mistress Harvelle explained about the door.  She led them to the right, up a flight of stairs curving over their heads to the next floor. 

“We have the residents’ bedrooms in this wing, and guest quarters and servants’ quarters in the south wing. Plenty of room for guests when they come calling,” Mistress Harvelle explained as the group moved on.

Captain Lafitte added, “And they will come calling, Sir Winchester. You’re going to be popular, the newest noble added to the ranks, and from peasant-hood as well. Very new and mysterious.”

“Right,” Dean said, feeling a little nervous about the idea of noble visitors coming to have a look at the peasant knight. Being an object of fascination and study was not something he would look forward to.

They continued their tour, Mistress Harvelle explaining where the workshops, the dining room, and the kitchen were on the ground floor. She led them to Castiel and Bobby’s rooms, sitting side by side, both much better adorned than they were used to. The current decorations were still a little plain without any personal effects, but Dean was confident that that would change with time. Though the Winchesters were now nobles and the Singers were under their care, they were not technically noble, so the best rooms were saved for Sam and Dean. Sam’s room was off the corridor around the next corner. Each person went in to explore their rooms and settle in.

Then, Dean was alone with Mistress Harvelle and Captain Lafitte. He was led up another flight of stairs that led to a large landing with archways leading to what looked like a study and another leading up to what must be the high tower. A wooden door rested in one wall, large and intricately carved.

“Is that my room?” Dean asked.

“Yes, Sir Winchester,” Mistress Harvelle confirmed, moved to the door, pushing it open and striding inside. “This is the master suite. Please, come in, sir.”

Dean walked in and was immediately taken aback by the size of the room. It was almost the same size as their house back in the village. There was a large bed to the left, a desk against the wall under the large windows, and a door to the right that must lead to the washroom. A large wardrobe sat against the wall on the right. Fine fabrics and polished wood were everywhere, glinting in the sunlight.

“This is all for me? Really?” Dean said, aghast.

Mistress Harvelle chuckled and responded, “Of course it is, sir.”

“Sir Winchester was a peasant until yesterday, Mistress Harvelle,” Captain Lafitte explained. “He’s new to the life and expectations of a nobleman.”

Dean turned to her, and spoke up, pleading, “Mistress Harvelle, if you have guidance to offer or if I do something inappropriate, _please_ let me know. I’m lost.”

Mistress Harvelle’s smile widened and she raised a sly eyebrow. “I’m sure we could manage to offer you some guidance, sir.”

Dean smiled charmingly. “I appreciate that.”

“For now, sir, I’ll leave you to get settled. Dinner will be at 7 o’clock, served in the dining room. Welcome to Carlow Keep, Sir Winchester,” Mistress Harvelle finished and left the room. Captain Lafitte remained, observing Dean’s nervous fidgeting.

“You alright, brother?” he asked with a hint of amusement.

“I dunno. Am I? This is so weird.” Dean sat on the foot of the, _his_ , bed. It was so _soft_. Could he even sleep in something so soft?

“Yes, you’ll be fine. There are nobles out there far less deserving and far more stupid than you and they do just fine,” Captain Lafitte assured him. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to see what my soldiers have gotten up to. I’ll see you again at dinner.” Captain Laffite gave a slight bow and walked out.

Dean was alone in such a huge room that it almost made him feel small. He wondered if he would ever feel like he was enough to fill it. It was wonderful that he had a way to support his family now. He could give Castiel and Bobby a better life and they didn’t have to worry about Sam getting into University now that Dean was a lesser nobleman. Sam could go off and study to his heart’s content.

Speaking of Sam.

“Dean!” Sam cried from Dean’s doorway.

Dean looked up and spotted the boy and smiled. “Hey, Sammy.”

Sam immediately frowned. “Sam,” he corrected, but quickly regained his smile. “Dean, this is amazing. Did you see that study across the hall? I’ve never seen so many books in one place. Not even Bobby has that many!” Sam enthused as he walked to Dean’s side and sat.

“I guess it’s a good thing that you’re here to read them all, then, you bookworm,” Dean teased.

“You could stand to read some more, Dean,” said a voice from the doorway. Dean looked up to find Castiel gazing at them with affection in his eyes. Dean felt his heart warm at the sight.

“Hey, I _read,_ ” he protested with very little venom.

Castiel strode into the room as Sam said, “I’m gonna take a closer look at the study.” Dean and Castiel both gave him their acknowledgment and Castiel’s eyes returned to Dean’s room, looking it over.

“Bobby has already settled in for a nap. This is large,” he said simply. “My room is nowhere near this big.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s the perk of being _Sir_ Winchester now." He added hesitantly, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.” 

Castiel considered Dean and said, “I admit, you seem out of place in such a _clean_ room.”

Dean lazily kicked at Castiel’s shins. “Hey!

“Dean, there is no need to worry. You will be fine,” Castiel tried to reassure him.

“I just keep feeling like someone’s going to figure out I’m a fake,” Dean said lamely, and looked at his hands in his lap.

“The nobles were not always noble either, Dean.” Castiel sat on the edge of the bed with him. “If you go far back enough, every family’s beginnings were humble.”

Dean nodded and said nothing. They sat in silence for a few moments before Castiel reached up and put a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I’m not supposed to be a noble, Cas. I didn’t even save anyone,” Dean whispered. They hadn’t had a chance to talk about how Dean felt about his new position.  Castiel didn’t envy Dean’s new responsibilities.

“You were looking for a chance to do your father proud. I don’t think that you could have gotten a better chance than this.”

“I know, I just need time to adjust, I suppose.” Dean’s cheeks heated slightly and he let loose a nervous laugh. “You’re right though, this is a good thing. I can support Sam, and you and Bobby are still with me. There’s no need for me to be so nervous as long as I have all of you around.”

“Thank you, Dean. I’m glad I’m here with you,” Castiel murmured, and leaned his head onto Dean’s shoulder.

Dean’s face heated even more and he had the sudden urge to turn and gather Castiel into his arms. He had been having similar urges for a while now, and the death of his father only made the desire for comfort more profound. No one could bring comfort and warmth into Dean’s life the way Castiel could. He didn’t dare wrap his arms around the man, though.

Castiel had always been a little free in his expressions of physical affection. He hugged and cuddled when he was upset, while Dean had always been more reserved in his ability to open up to people. Bobby had explained that the fae were definitely more unrestrained socially when it came to public displays of affection. Human society was more concerned with appearances and propriety, and some of the fae’s ways must have clung to Castiel despite his life amongst the humans. He wouldn’t admit it aloud, but he was glad that they had.

They settled into life in their new home as best they could. Over the next few days, a small group of servants arrived: two maids, a cook, a scullery boy, and a stable hand. Dean had little contact with most of the servants, mainly interacting with Ellen and Joanna. The servants were held back by propriety and Dean mostly confused them by trying to be friendly when he actually did see them. Dean spent most of his time with Sam, Bobby, and Castiel where he felt more comfortable.

He did get to know the higher ranking servants, though. Mistress Harvelle was outspoken and a bit intimidating when she wished to be, but she got along with Bobby well. Very well. Joanna, her daughter, preferred to be called Jo and acted as her mother’s assistant. She also hunted in the surrounding woods and provided most of the Keep’s game meat. Ashton’s (Ash’s) role was less defined. He repaired furniture, maintained saddles, and did some work that the neither the caretakers nor he wished to explain, but Joanna assured Dean that Ash was essential. Garth worked at the leather shop located in the back of the Keep grounds. Bobby quickly adopted him as a sort of apprentice as he had no patience for not working.

Bobby found the smith and leather shop within days of moving in. Garth was mostly in charge of it, but now he has a seasoned craftsman to help him and Garth’s happy-go-lucky attitude made it impossible for Garth to be put off by Bobby’s grumpy demeanor. Bobby complained about Garth’s personality initially, but gave in when he saw how sincere and hardworking the young man was. Soon, people from surrounding villages were coming for Bobby and Garth’s smithed crafts and leatherwork. It brought extra income into the Keep and Bobby considered it his payment for room and board and the occasional bottle of fine liquor.

Other people came by the Keep as well. One was a tailor that took measurements of both the Winchester brothers. Apparently, the tailor was from the city and had a whole shop of employees that would work out a wardrobe for everyone. Dean and Sam didn’t hate the newest noble fashions, per se, but they did tend toward more plain, functional clothing. The clothes arrived two weeks later and Dean was not too proud to admit that the silks and fine cottons felt amazing. He liked them so much that he ordered some plainer, but still much better than their original clothes for Castiel and Bobby. Castiel tended toward more formal cuts, but still plain and functional.

Most frustrating was the first of the advisors Duke Henriksen had promised; Bela Talbot. Dean would have preferred to just learn things from Mistress Harvelle and Captain Lafitte, but they both insisted it would be better to listen to the advisor. Mistress Talbot was a quick-witted woman and devastatingly beautiful. Dean couldn’t help himself, he flirted a little, but it was obvious that it was more of a power play than anything having to with actual attraction.

Mistress Talbot schooled him and his brother in the names of all the Barons, Baronesses, Counts and Countesses in the county and all the names of nobles in the King’s court which would undoubtedly come up in conversation one day at a ball or gala. She taught Dean and the Winchesters proper table manners and etiquette for most social gatherings. At night, Castiel helped Dean with his memorization and even created cards with the noble family’s names and positions on them.

Mistress Talbot left them in time and eventually Captain Lafitte did as well. Dean was more upset to see Benny (as Captain Lafitte insisted he call him) go. They had become friends over the weeks and even trained together so Dean could keep his sword skills up. He and Dean trained together and the Captain taught the fledgling knight more about strategy and battle tactics.  Dean learned much from the Captain, but the Captain’s duties remained in the King’s army and he was ordered back to his post in the Duke’s castle, Castle Brighton.

Letters from nobles all over the county began to poor in, requesting attention from the new mystery knight. The Winchesters even received gifts from nobles within the county; a few knick knacks, a tapestry, many bottles of wine and liquor, a pig and most impressive of all, a beautiful black mare from Duke Henriksen himself. Dean was unwilling to even think of attempting to write back to most of them, let alone attending a party, so Castiel began sorting his mail for him and politely declining invitations and writing Thank You letters. Dean also began receiving requests for hearings from surrounding villages, even his former home. Dean had Castiel write a letter to the Duke and in a few short weeks, another advisor arrived.

This advisor would not have seemed to be an expert on political strategy and settling disputes, at first glance. As she told it, it was not something she enjoyed, but she knew it was good strategy to make herself an indispensable to the higher ranking nobles as possible, especially since she was not known for adhering to the laws herself. Her name was Charlotte Bradbury (but she preferred “Charlie”), daughter to a deceased Knight and she quickly endeared herself to Dean and to Mistress Harvelle’s daughter, Jo. At first, no one knew about the relationship, but Dean and Sam both spotted Charlie or Jo leaving the wrong bedroom in the morning a time or two and the tell-tale sound of girlish giggles and sighs could be heard from inside closets or around corners no and then.  Charlie quickly became a semi-permanent fixture at Carlow Keep, staying for weeks at a time and taking her leave whenever she wished. She advised Dean to treat everything he did politically like he was winning points from certain parties, it was a little disingenuous, but it was necessary for survival.

Dean didn’t get many requests to hold court, his region was not a highly populated one. Dean was unsure of himself at first, but it eventually became clear that he needed to project an air of decisiveness and authority, otherwise chaos reigned in the court. Charlie called it “fake it ‘till you make it.” Dean sent a request to the Count to help his home village, Lawreville, by sending some donations of livestock and other supplies to replace the ones that had lost and  Dean’s first court had him deciding a divorce case, a pair of husbands were going their separate ways and their belongings needed to be assigned to each man. It took a while, but Dean eventually had had enough and handed down a decision. Castiel whispered, “You handled that well,” to him and Charlie hugged him affectionately once they were out of the public’s eye.

Castiel quickly became his right hand man in almost all his knightly duties. Castiel handled his correspondence, took minutes in court and reminded Dean of his duties and meetings. It was also a great comfort to have his childhood friend near him and Castiel seemed happy to be of use to him. Castiel also took over the Keep’s garden, which was small but healthy, but only by non-magical means. Castiel decided to hide his fae abilities and had to make sure he never used his powers in front of anyone other than the Winchesters and Bobby. Now that Dean was of higher rank and under more scrutiny, they had to be more careful. It would cause more trouble than they could handle for Castiel to be found out as a fae.

Castiel’s infatuation with Dean was not helped by their working together. Castiel could not help but admire Dean’s ability to adapt despite the lack of confidence in himself. Every new person that Dean met seemed to warm to him immediately (except for Bela, who seemed damaged enough that she would never warm to anyone completely). Despite growing up with the Winchesters, Castiel’s ability to socialize and make friends never measured up to Dean’s.

Dean said that the residents of Carlow Keep loved him and he had nothing to worry about. People seemed to like him well enough, but Castiel always felt out of place. He surmised it must be his fae nature holding him back, making him worry that if they _really_ knew him, they might not be as welcoming. Castiel was only able to release his wings occasionally now and he often felt as if they were cramped and sore. He didn’t burden Dean with his issues any further, though. Dean has many new responsibilities and Castiel didn’t want to add to them.

Sam continued his studies and the shelves of book available to him only encouraged him further His intellect made it easy for him to socialize with Ashton, who was very smart as well and spent his time on alchemy and potion making. However, he started showing an interest in more athletic ventures as well. At first, Dean was happy to accompany Sam on his rides and climbing excursions, but when Dean was too busy, Jo, Charlie or Castiel were usually available and with time, Sam was fit enough to leave everyone in the dust in their races. Sam grew strong, tall and was as muscled as any warrior.

Dean was still recovering from his father’s death, but all the new addition to his life help to distract from that. His new friends, his new responsibilities, his new home and new lessons all helped keep him busy. At night, the Winchesters, the Singers, the Harvelles, Charlie, Ash, and Garth all ate together in the dining room. It had taken a while for Dean to assure all of them that he didn’t want the propriety that most nobles insisted on. He wanted friends and laugh-filled nights. They drank wine and told stories late into the night, most times. All in all, life was improving for the better.


	5. Chapter 5

A few months had rolled by when a letter came for Dean that he could not refuse. Dean was sitting in his armchair next to his fireplace, starting on a new woodcarving, trying to dry his socks after a particularly wet excursion with Sam when Castiel came into his chambers, holding an opened letter in his hands. Dean looked up and smiled.

“Cas! What have we got, today?” He said cheerfully as another wood shaving fell to the floor.

Castiel’s eyes roamed over the letter and he frowned. “Dean, I’m sorry, but you’re being ordered to attend a party.”

Dean froze and stared at Castiel with wide eyes. “What do you _mean_ I’m being-“

“Exactly that. Apparently Duke Henriksen has been getting inquiries about you and it’s starting to grate on his nerves. Count Blake is throwing a celebration for his daughter’s birthday. It has been asked that you attend,” Castiel explained.

Dean groaned loudly and leaned back in his chair. “I guess I should have seen this coming.”

“This is true.”

“Should have seen what coming?” a voice asked from the doorway. Dean and Castiel look and find Sam and Charlie standing there, peering at them curiously.

“Dean’s been invited to a ball,” Castiel supplied.

Charlie’s face was slightly confused and she traded a look with Sam. “And the problem with that is…?”

“Dean’s deathly afraid of real nobles,” Sam teased and stepped further into the room. Castiel handed the letter over to the younger man.

Dean rolled his eyes but was unable to retort before Charlie got to it, “Dean, you can handle it, I swear.”

“I don’t even know how to _dance_ right and people _dance_ at balls,” Dean said vehemently.

“Astute observation, Dean,” Castiel replied.

“What are you talking about? You used to dance at the tavern all the time,” Sam said, confusion evident.

Dean threw his hands up and began pacing the room. “I know, I know, but these people do all this fancy, structured dancing with actual steps and rules.”

Charlie leaned up against Dean’s desk and said, “I thought you would have learned that from Mistress Bela. _I_ certainly wouldn’t pass up a chance to dance with such a beautiful woman,” Charlie said dreamily, her eyes un-focusing.

Dean snapped his fingers in front Charlie’s face and barked, “Focus!”

Castiel laughed to himself and said, “No. Dean and Mistress Bela did not get along well, so she taught him the basics and moved on quickly.”

“Oh, well, I can teach you to dance,” Charlie suggested.

Hope dawned on Dean’s face. “Really? You know how to dance?”

Charlie put on a hurt face and said, “ _Yes._ You jerk. I _am_ a noble. I learned all the noble basics too, not just how to maneuver politically. Come on.” Charlie started out the door, gesturing for the group to follow.

“What? Me too?” Sam whined.

Castiel stood and moved to join Charlie as he said, “Sam, you will need to learn these dances as well. You were invited to the ball as well.”

“Oh great,” Sam grumbled and Dean wrapped an arm around his shoulder, drawing him into a rough embrace.

“Hey, now I won’t be alone in my embarrassment,” Dean said smugly and dragged Sam along despite his protests and size.

Soon, they were in the dining room with the tables pushed to the side and Charlie and Dean standing across from Sam and Castiel. Jo had been called in because she could play a pan flute relatively well and wanted to watch Sam and Dean’s attempt to dance. A steady tune now played as Charlie called out the movements everyone was supposed to be executing.

“1, 2, 3, 4, step back, turn—and good, Sam—and face your partner, take their hand,” Charlie sang along with the music and winked at Jo in the process, with, quite possibly, an extra sway to her hips.

Dean rolled his eyes and looked at his partner, Castiel, who gave Dean an awkward smile, a slight tinge of pink across his cheeks. Dean felt his cheeks heat in response and quickly averted his eyes. They changed partners at Charlie’s instruction and Dean was now circling Charlie instead of Sam. Charlie caught his eye with a raised eyebrow. Dean raised his own in confusion and Charlie nodded in the direction of Castiel with a question in her eyes.

Dean tensed and almost forgot to move, but Charlie pulled him into line again, chuckling a little. They finished their turn and Charlie instructed them to switch back to their original partners. Dean swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to school his face into stoicism. Castiel gave him a searching look, but said nothing. Dean did his best to concentrate despite the distracting nature of Castiel’s hand (warm and rough from working in the garden) in his own.

Nightly dancing lessons went on for a few days and the ball loomed on the horizon. Dean wasn’t exactly the most musically inclined person, but his years of training with his father made it easy to learn the steps. Bobby took gently mocking Dean for his efforts, but Dean knew that it was only in jest. However, there was just so _many_ different kinds of dances and protocol for asking people to dance and etiquette for who to talk to and when to refuse dances. There was a lot to learn, but Charlie was determined. She even helped them at night when she was normally trying to sneak Jo out of her room. Now, Jo spent most nights playing flute and blushing at Charlie’s _looks._

It was the night before the ball, and Sam groaned loudly and collapsed into a chair near the end of the dining room, pulling off his boots and rubbing at his feet. Dean pulled out a chair next to him and took a seat with a loud sigh of his own.

 “Alright, my feet ache. I need some sleep,” Sam said.

“Aw, Sam, can’t take it?” Dean teased.

“Shut up,” Sam muttered and stood, picking up his boots. “Alright, I’ll see you all in the morning.” He shuffled off, yawning widely, bare feet padding across the stone floor.

“Actually, I think I will retire as well,” Castiel said. He glanced at Dean and held his gaze for moment before he wandered off towards the stairs.

Dean was left with Jo and Charlie. The air felt heavy with words unsaid. Dean looked over and found them staring back, smug smiles on both their faces. He suddenly felt very scrutinized.  He squirmed and asked, “What?”

Charlie grinned even wider. “So… you and Castiel?”

Dean frowned. This conversation was not going in a direction he liked. “What about me and Castiel?”

Jo stood and moved beside Charlie. “Dean, it’s just… we see the way you look at him,” she said with a cheeky smile.

Dean lurched to his feet. The two women flinched a bit at the quick movement. Charlie’s grin had disappeared, and she said, “Dean? I’m sorry, was it wrong of me to…”

“Don’t. It’s okay. Cas and I aren’t like that. He’s just… been there for me,” Dean said.

“I get it, Dean. I do. I just thought that maybe-”

“I’m going to go to sleep. Goodnight, you two,” Dean said with a weak smile as he walked away, towards his chambers.

He walked up the stairs and thought about Charlie and Jo’s words. So he got a little flustered when he caught Castiel staring or showing him affection. He liked it, that wasn’t odd, was it? To enjoy the affections of a beloved friend? He couldn’t allow himself see Castiel in a romantic way, anyway. He had responsibilities and a whole region of the county to look after. Sure, he would have to marry someday and either sire or take on an heir, but that was many years away. 

Plus, there was inescapable fact that Castiel was fae. Dean could keep that hidden as long as Castiel kept his head down. Humans generally did not take kindly to fae. Let alone a romantic relationship between a fae and a noble. No one would ever approve of that, and Castiel would end up persecuted. Dean would lose his knighthood and Sam would never be able to attend University.

He hadn’t know it, but his feet had carried him to the subject of his thoughts - he was standing in front of Castiel’s chamber door. He could see a light coming from underneath it. He knew that Castiel looked at him the same way he looked at Castiel sometimes. He wasn’t stupid. He could feel that the energy between them had shifted over the years. And yes, Castiel had grown into a very good looking young man; it was impossible not to notice. As easy as it would have been to raise his hand and knock on Castiel’s door, Dean didn’t. He turned away and returned to his own chambers to bed down for the night.

The next day was filled with preparations for the trip to the ball. The Blakes’ home was only a half-day’s carriage ride away, but that meant that Sam and Dean needed to be prepared early. Castiel had spent most of the week before preparing for the Winchester’s journey to the ball and back. He had written for a carriage to arrive at noon and ordered a gift for the Blake daughter, Sarah. Helping Dean and Sam learn their dance steps had been the best part of the week, though. He had faith that Dean would impress the nobles at the ball.

Castiel was curious as to how the Winchester brothers were doing in their preparations. He first stopped by Sam’s chambers where he found Charlie trying to convince Sam to pull back his long hair. Sam was dressed; Charlie seemed to have things under control, so he moved on to Dean’s chambers. He reached Dean’s door and heard what sounded like a cry of frustration emanating from inside. He knocked and only seconds later, the door was flung open. Dean’s harried face appeared above a decidedly underdressed body. Dean was not ready, he was only wearing breeches and an undershirt.

“Cas! Can you help me?” Dean asked, leaving the door open and disappearing further into his chambers.

“Of course,” Castiel assured him, and stepped inside. “What do you need?”

Dean had piles of clothes all over his bed, but was staring intently at two different doublets in front of him. He frowned at them as if they had insulted him somehow.

“I don’t know what I should do. I’ve got to nail this, Cas. If I get there and mess things up…” Dean trailed off as if the implications of making a mistake at this ball were too horrific to consider.

“Dean, you will be fine,” Castiel said as he moved to stand next to Dean. “You just have to be yourself. Believe it or not, you are actually a pretty charming man,” he explained with a slight chuckle.

Dean looked over at him, a look of amused affection on his face, and Castiel’s heart fluttered. Dean mumbled an embarrassed “Thanks,” ran a hand through his hair, and quickly changed the subject. Dean had never been good at accepting praise. “Which doublet do you think I should use?”

Castiel regarded the two doublets carefully. He pointed to the green doublet with the full sleeves and gold embroidery. “This one. The color will look good with your eyes.”

Dean grinned and grabbed the doublet, pulling it on. “Thanks, Cas. I don’t know how I would have done any of this without you. You’ve been helping me so much this entire week.” Dean starting buttoning up the garment, and his voice went a little quieter. “I don’t know how I’m going to get through this ball without you.”

Castiel rolled his eyes and started to say, “Dean, I already told you,” but Dean’s face turned upward and he fixed Castiel with an intense stare.

Castiel was a little jarred by the sudden intense attention, but managed to say, “What? Dean, what is it?”

“You should come,” Dean said, voice distant, eyes still boring into Castiel.

“What?” Cas asked, incredulous.

Dean turned back to his bed and picked up the doublet Castiel hadn’t chosen. It was a rich blue color with white embroidery. He held it up to Castiel’s chest. “Yeah, this could work,” he said to himself.

“Dean, I can’t go. I’m not a noble. I wasn’t invited,” Cas explained, utterly baffled.

Dean’s hands dropped and the doublet lowered. “Cas, please. They won’t question it if you’re there with me. You’ve been there for most of my lessons. You can keep to yourself, I won’t drag you all over the place. I’ll make my rounds. No one’s going to pay attention to us, no one will find out about you being fae, I promise. I’ll probably keep to myself too,” Dean explained fervently. Then, “Please, Cas? I need you.”

It was the ‘I need you’ that did it. Castiel felt his resolve crumble and he let loose a long sigh. “Alright.”

A huge grin split Dean’s face and he whooped in excitement. Castiel quickly interrupted him, “But! We need an explanation for why I’m there. Maybe I’m a friend of a friend or something? They might not be so receptive if they know I’m a peasant.”

Dean pulled Castiel into a rough hug and said, “Of course! Of course!” He released him just as Castiel’s blush was reaching his neck and commanded, “Okay, come on. We have to get ready.”

Sam was superficially happy to find out that Castiel was attending the ball with them, but Castiel could see the uncertainty in a quick glance that Sam shot at him.  He said nothing though, and the three of them climbed into the carriage and set off for the Blakes’ castle.

Castiel’s nerves did not settle on the journey. He already felt out of place in the fine clothes that Dean had leant to him, and he worried about whether or not the nobles would see through their rouse. Dean needed him though, so he would try his best. The nobles could be a cruel group, and Castiel knew he could only help Dean if he was at his side. Dean did not speak to his own nerves, but Castiel could see the tension in his shoulders.

Castiel looked down at this clothes and ran a hand over what felt like silk. The color suited him, or Charlie and Sam had said. Dean had just said he looked nice, but Castiel was grateful for the praise from them all. It gave him a small burst of confidence in the face of a stressful night.

The carriage arrived at the Blakes’ castle almost an hour after sunset. A long line of carriages were pulled to the side and drivers stood talking amongst themselves and tending to the horses. The Winchester carriage pulled up in front of the main entrance. The driver climbed down to open the door for the men. It seemed as if most of the guests were already inside; no one was lingering outside except for two doormen. The faint sound of music coming from inside could be heard through the open windows.

“I think we arrived fashionably late,” Sam said.

“Great,” Dean grumbled, and frowned as he stepped down onto the walkway leading to the front entrance. Castiel and Sam followed him. The carriage pulled away to wait for the end of the evening. Sam squared his shoulders, hefted the large ornately packaged present they had brought onto his hip, and looked to the two older men.

“Alright, are we ready?” Sam asked seriously.

“As ready as we’ll ever be,” Dean answered solemnly, and pulled himself up to his full height, back straight and shoulders pulled back. He actually looked imposing, which Castiel wasn’t used to.  Dean lead them forward, and into the entryway where the doormen pulled the giant wooden doors back and bowed respectfully as they passed.

Inside, there was a loud clamor of music and people engaged in polite conversation coming from the direction of what must be the ball room. A porter approached them and asked them their names. Dean flinched when the young girl spoke, but quickly regained his composure.

“S-Sir Dean Winchester, Samuel Winchester, and Castiel Singer,” he answered evenly. Castiel’s nerves jumped at Dean’s words. They had discussed using a cover story, but they had not discussed using a fake name. It was possible they should have, but it was too late to remedy; his real name was out there.

The porter led them forward through the entry hall and up a flight of stairs across from the main door. At the top of the stairs were a set of double doors, large and intricately painted, that Castiel assumed led to the banquet hall or ball room.  The doormen reached for the door handles and suddenly, Castiel’s hand was gripped tightly. Castiel’s body jerked and he looked over to find Dean offering him a nervous smile. Castiel could only smile back as the doors swung open.

Music and light greeted them as they entered. Castiel saw people in colorful clothes twirling and striding around the dance floor, and more people around the edges of the room standing in small groups, laughing and talking animatedly. It didn’t look intimidating, especially as he and the Winchesters stood above them at the top of the long staircase. On the far side of the room sat a raised dais with elaborate chairs and tables where sat who Castiel assumed, was the Blakes. Castiel remembered Charlie’s instructions to offer well-wishes and their gift to the family.

His thoughts were cut short by the porter calling out, “Sir Dean Winchester,  Master Samuel Winchester, and  Master Castiel Singer!”

Almost everyone in the large room puttered to a stop and turned to stare up at them. Castiel felt the grip on his hand tighten and heard a sharp intake of breath from Dean. Why was everyone looking at them? They couldn’t be that interesting, could they? Castiel squeezed Dean’s hand in return and they began their descent of the stairs. Castiel heard Sam behind them whisper a reminder, “Smile, Dean.” Castiel took heed of it as well, feeling his cheeks pull back in a polite smile.

The occupants of the room gradually returned to their activities, but by the time the three of them reached the bottom of the stairs, it was apparent that glances at them were being stolen in every direction. “So much for a low profile,” Sam muttered behind them.

Dean only kept smiling and nodded politely as they all made their way towards the dais and the Blake family. They stepped up onto the dais and Dean let go of Castiel’s hand. He hadn’t even realized that Dean had still been holding it. Dean took a stepped forward and bowed. Castiel, side by side with Sam, bowed as well.

“Lord Blake, good evening,” Dean said pleasantly. “I am Sir Winchester, and this is my Brother Samuel Winchester and a close family friend, Castiel Singer.” Castiel’s stomach lurched, wondering what had happened to the idea of a cover story. Dean continued, “Thank you for inviting us to celebrate your daughter’s birthday.” Dean turned to the young lady to Lord Blake’s left and gave another quick bow. “We wish you congratulations and a happy birthday, Lady Blake.”  

Castiel looked the young woman over. She was pretty, with dark hair and soft brown eyes, and she seemed about the same age as Sam. She smiled, seeming genuinely friendly. Sam handed the gift off to another porter, but Castiel saw that his eyes were fixed on the young lady. Her eyes lingered for a moment on Sam, and Castiel reminded himself to ask Sam to dance with her before the night’s end. Castiel did not see any other Blake family members and wondered if it was just Lord Blake and his daughter here tonight.

Lord Blake scrutinized them carefully before speaking. “Thank you for attending, Sir Winchester. Stories of your defeat of the band of raiders plaguing our lands precede you. It is good to finally meet you. Welcome to our home.”

“Thank you, My Lord,” Dean answered. Castiel took this as their cue to turn and move off the dais. Dean followed and the three of them were surprised to find several people moving toward them, curious and excited expressions on their faces. He had time to hear Dean breathe, “Oh shit,” before they were inundated with nobles greeting them, asking questions and trying to start conversations. Castiel was suddenly surrounded; he could see Dean and Sam between the people in the small crowd, but it was obvious that Dean and Sam were on their own for the moment.

A sultry woman’s voice brought Castiel back to the situation at hand. “Hello. Castiel Singer, correct?”

Castiel turned to find a woman with a round face and wavy dark hair in a dark red gown smiling at him like she wanted to eat him. Castiel bowed politely and offered his best smile, despite his nerves. “Yes. Hello. Who do I have the pleasure of—“

“Lady Margaret Masters. The pleasure is all mine,” she said as she offered her hand to him. “Would you care to dance?”


	6. Chapter 6

Dean was feeling a little overwhelmed, but so far, the nobles only seemed curious about the mysterious new Knight in their company. Dean knew that he could be charming if he wished, so he pulled out all the stops. He grinned and flirted and joked and it seemed to be working. A Baroness laughed heartily and a Baron’s son blushed and smacked his arm playfully. As far as Dean could tell, things were going well.

He managed to catch sight of Sam a few feet away talking to a smaller group of people that seemed to be closer to his age. He felt a surge of pride at Sam being so popular and handling it so well. Sam deserved to have interest and attention directed at him. Castiel as well.

Dean hadn’t seen his friend for a while now and hoped to hell that Castiel was okay. Dean went to turn his eyes back to the blushing Baron’s son, but a flash of blue caught his eye. He saw Castiel in the arms of a beautiful woman in a red dress, gliding around the dance floor. Apparently, Castiel was just fine. Alright. Dean tore his eyes away from Castiel as the Baron’s son reached out and offered his hand, asking Dean to dance. Dean grinned and accepted, leading his partner to the dance floor.

The Baron’s son (Adam), Dean discovered, was witty, if a little awkward, and Dean enjoyed their dance. Immediately after, he was asked to dance by a beautiful woman with creamy dark skin and short hair. She was friendly and asked him to call her by her first name, Tamara. Lady Tamara expressed her gladness that the nobles were gaining some new blood and that she hoped that Dean would offer some new perspectives to their kingdom.

Next came a large group dance. Dean internally cheered that it was one that they had practiced with Charlie. His new partner was a middle-aged woman named Eleanor Visyak, the widow of a Knight. He didn’t actually spend much time dancing with her, though, as the dance involved a lot of partner changes. Castiel was in this dance as well, and Dean noticed that he was still partnered with the same woman in the red dress.  Why was he still with her? Was the woman trying to make advances on Castiel? Dean couldn’t blame her, obviously, but the woman was being rather forward.

The dance continued, and Dean traded partners six more times before he found himself dancing with the woman in red. He couldn’t resist introducing himself; he wanted to find out more about this woman who had taken an interest in Castiel. However, he was beaten to the punch.

“And you are Sir Winchester,” she said with a coy smile as they twirled around each other. “I am Lady Margaret Masters.”

“Good evening. I notice you have been dancing with my friend Castiel for a good while now,” Dean responded as he guided her through the dance.

“Well, you don’t waste a moment, do you? Yes, Castiel is lovely. I am eager to know him well,” she said with a leer in Castiel’s direction. Dean felt anger tingle across his body, and he can’t help the frown that appears on his face. Lady Masters only laughs. “Do not worry, Sir Winchester, your friend’s honor will remain intact,” she assured him as she reached for her next partner’s hand. As Dean reached for his own, he heard Lady Masters’ voice one more time, softer, “For now.”

Dean’s head whipped around to glare at the conniving woman, but she was already smiling and talking to her new dance partner. Dean scowled, but quickly tamed his expression into a mask of propriety before anyone else knew that this Lady Masters had irked him so.

When the dance finished, Dean walked away from the dance floor and found Sam next to the buffet table, nibbling on fresh berries. Sam smiled and said, “You’ve been busy.”

Dean returned the smile, clapping Sam on the shoulder. “You too. Did you get a chance to dance yet?”

“Yeah, once. I’ve mostly just been talking, though. Everyone’s very curious.”

“Yeah, some _too_ curious,” Dean grumbled as he glared in the direction of Castiel and Lady Masters. A moment of companionable silence passed, and Dean glanced at his brother and discovered a look of impatience on Sam’s face.

“What?” Dean asked petulantly.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Dean… just ask him to dance.”

“What? No. Why?” Dean shuffled his feet in discomfort.  Castiel was still with Lady Masters, but more people approached him, trying to find out about the mysterious handsome man that came in with Sir Winchester. “He’s got nobles that want to dance with him.” _Why would he want to dance with me?_ Dean added silently.

“In case you’ve forgotten, Dean, _you’re_ a noble now too. And even if you weren’t, Cas has every reason to, and does, prefer you to these people anyway,” Sam assured him.

Dean hesitated and decided to change the subject. He looked to the dais where the Blake family watched the crowd. “Lady Blake was giving you a thorough once-over earlier. I would wager that she’s bored - I haven’t seen her dance yet.”

Sam turned and looked to the dais and considered. He returned his gaze to Dean with a sly grin that made Dean nervous. “If I ask Lady Blake to dance, you must ask Cas to dance,” Sam said, leaving no room for discussion. “Alright? Alright.” And with a self-assured nod, Sam strode towards the dais and up to Lady Blake.

Dean watched and blinked in his surprise. Sam bowed low, saying something to Lord Blake before offering his hand to Lady Blake.  Lady Blake blushed prettily and smiled, accepting Sam’s hand. As Sam led her to the dance floor, he looked over to Dean and nodded in the direction of Castiel, trying to tell Dean to get going. Well, Dean had no excuses now.

His eyes traveled to where Cas was standing in a small group of people, and his feet began to move before his brain had a chance to catch up. Why was this so strange to him? He and Castiel had danced before. Sure, Dean had even been a little flustered then, but he kept his composure. It was easier when he was among friends.

He reached the group of people talking amongst themselves, and Castiel looked up, smiling warmly at Dean. “Hello, D- Sir Winchester,” he said, remembering his in-public manners, and several of the nobles in the group turned to look at the newcomer.

Dean’s heart fluttered at Castiel’s smile, but he continued on his mission. He held his hand out to Castiel and spoke as best he could. “Would you like to dance?”

Castiel’s eyes flicked between Dean’s hand and face, then the surrounding onlookers. Castiel was unsure. That was alright, Dean was unsure as well. Dean smiled a little wider and said, “Please, Cas.”

Castiel’s hand slid into his. Dean had a quick thought that his smile couldn’t get any wider without extending beyond his face.  Castiel stepped out from the small gathering of people and Dean led him towards the dance floor. From the corner of his eye, Dean saw people watching, talking amongst themselves and generally being much too excited about Dean and Castiel dancing together.

He reached a clearing on the floor and turned to Castiel. He avoided eye contact as he pulled Castiel into position, a flush crawling up his neck as the space between them diminished. He swallowed the lump in his throat and led them both into the dance, doing his best to remember the steps and avoid thinking about Castiel’s body heat, the nobles gossiping around them and the sweat on his palms. He hoped Castiel didn’t mind.

He spotted Sam dancing a few feet away and totally immersed in conversation with Lady Blake. Castiel remarked, “Sam seems to be enjoying himself.”

Dean forcibly returned his eyes to Castiel’s face. The same warm smile was still there. Dean relaxed a trifling amount. “Maybe he’ll come away from this with a new admirer,” Dean said with a grin.

“He is worthy of admiration,” Castiel said, and a moment later added, “You are too.”

Dean hand squeezed down on Castiel’s, and he protested, “I’m not doing anything worth admiring.” He continued in a lowered voice, “You’re the one that actually saved the village.”

Castiel’s eyes searched for anyone that might have overheard, then lightly shook Dean’s hand where it was clasped with his. “Dean, shush.”

“Sorry, but it’s true. And speaking of admirers, it looks like you have one of your own,” Dean said, trying for a teasing tone, but it sounded more critical than he had hoped.

Castiel frowned in confusion. “Admirer?”

“Lady Masters?” Dean grumbled. Gods, why was he being such a child about this?

“Oh! Yes. She is interesting. And very forward,” Castiel answered absently.

“And?”

“And what?”

Castiel’s irritation with him was growing, but Dean couldn’t stop himself. “And? Do you like her?”

Castiel must have noticed Dean’s frustration, because he answered with an eyebrow raised in amusement, “She is very attractive.” Dean’s frown only deepened, and Castiel must have taken pity on him, because he moved ever so slightly closer to Dean and his cheeks tinged with color. Dean’s face heated too, and he tried to ignore the sudden prickling sensation on the back of his neck as the hairs there stood on end.

“Cas?” Dean managed to whisper.

“She’s not the admirer I want though,” Castiel said quietly.

Dean was so enraptured by Castiel that he didn’t notice the other couple until he bumped into them. The woman let out an undignified squeak, and her dance partner glared at them imperiously. Dean apologized, “I’m so sorry!”

The woman laughed it off and smacked her male companion on the arm. “Relax, Darling. No harm done, Sir Winchester. Enjoy your evening with your lovely companion. You make a splendid couple.”

Dean started to stammer his protestations, but the couple danced away together. Dean turned back to Castiel, who was rubbing the back of his neck with a deep blush covering his face. Dean cleared his throat and held his hand out to him. “Shall we continue?”

Dean and Castiel danced for a long while, but Dean didn’t notice the length of time. Castiel was in his arms and all his for now, and he wanted to enjoy it. There were no women in red dresses or knightly duties to distract them, and it was wonderful. Castiel laughed at Dean’s jokes and teased Dean when he forgot a step, and Dean kept working to keep that wonderful smile on the other man’s face. They took breaks between dances and drank some very delicious wines.

Dean finished the last of his glass as he watched Castiel eyeing the dancers.  His mood dropped when he saw Lady Masters approaching with a familiar face. “Oh shit,” Dean muttered just as the two ladies reached them. Dean felt Castiel stiffen next to him; he must have spotted them as well. Lady Masters was approaching, arm linked with Mistress Bela Talbot.

“Sir Winchester, I believe you’ve met my friend, Mistress Talbot?” Lady Masters asked with a smug smile.

Dean’s eyes flicked between the two women. “Mistress Talbot, I didn’t know you were attending.”

“Well, I heard that the ball was open to those of all rank now, and I just had to see for myself,” she said smoothly, and her eyes trailed lazily over Castiel.

“It surprised me to find out that Castiel here was not what he seemed,” Lady Masters said with unnecessary volume. Castiel flinched, and Dean took a step in front of him. A few people around them turned at Lady Masters’ words to see what the commotion was.

“You should keep your mouth _shut_ ,” Dean ground out.

“Or what? Everyone here will find out about your _kept man?”_ Lady Masters sneered. She raised a condescending eyebrow at Castiel. “You disguise yourself well, Castiel. How did he find you? On a street corner?”

The light in the room flashed as the candle flames in the wall sconces flared to twice their normal size. A woman yelped and several people jumped back from the walls.

“What was that?” Lady Masters gasped.

Dean flinched at the sight and he almost turned to look at Castiel. He stopped himself, but Mistress Talbot had caught the movement. Dean felt his skin break out in a sweat as he watched Mistress Talbot’s eyes move between Dean and Castiel. A look of suspicion overtook her face.

“You know, Lord Blake would not be happy to hear about your low tastes, Sir Winchester. Though considering your own low-born status, it is no surprise. I wonder how long it would take for the Duke to hear of this and take away your knighthood. Then we’ll see who’s the belle of the ball when you and your _peasant pet_ -“

“ _Stop it!”_ Castiel roared from behind Dean, and all the wall sconces burst into life again, this time each with flames three feet high. A man screamed as his sleeve caught on fire, and there was a commotion as people rushed to throw water and wine on the man and put out the fire before it caused any more damage.

However, everyone else’s eyes were on Castiel. Dean spun around and saw what had drawn their attention. Out of Castiel’s back shone two sparkling sets of wings, pale blue and shining. Terror was written across his face as wide blue eyes stared at Dean. “Dean…” he breathed.

Lady Masters gasped. “Fae,” she said lowly, with disgust.

Sam came crashing through the crowd and stopped, staring wide-eyed at Castiel. “Cas…”

“What is the meaning of this?” boomed a voice. All eyes turned to the dais where Lord Blake stood. “Guards, seize the fae spy!”

“Spy? No!” Dean yelled as the guards next to the doors advanced. Both he and Sam lurched forward to stand in front Castiel. “Lord Blake, please! Castiel is _not-_ “

“Silence! You bring an unnatural creature into _my_ home, around _my_ daughter, and you expect me to believe your lies?”

Castiel pushed his way through the brothers and called out, “Lord Blake, I’ll go quietly! Just please… Sir Winchester did not know about my true nature.”

Dean and Sam’s heads both turned. Dean whispered harshly, “Cas! _What are-“_

 Castiel ignored him and continued. “Lord Blake, I mean you no harm. Please, only take me and leave them be.”

Lord Blake stared at them all severely, his frown deep and disapproving. “Very well. Seize the fae and lock him in a holding cell. I will speak with Sir Winchester.” He turned to address the crowd as the guards pushed the Winchesters aside and pulled Castiel away. “My guests, please accept my apologies. The festivities have concluded for the night. Please make your way back to your carriages, and I wish you safe travels.”

Dean watched Castiel wince as the guards grabbed him roughly and started to pull him away. “Cas! Don’t worry, we’ll get you out soon!” Dean called to him. Castiel looked over his shoulder and nodded his acknowledgment as he was pulled around a corner and away from sight. The rest of the crowd began filing back up the stairs and out the entrance they had come in earlier, talking quietly, but fervently. Dean saw Lady Master and Mistress Talbot in the last group of nobles shuffling through the doors. The very sight of them made Dean’s blood boil.

He hadn’t even realized he had made a move to go after them until a hand around his arm yanked him back. “Dean! That’s not going to help Cas!” Sam whispered angrily in his ear. Dean seethed as the last of the nobles disappeared and the large doors were closed behind them.

All that was left was the Winchesters, a few guards, and the Blakes now. Dean tore his eyes away from the door that Castiel had been dragged through. What would they do to him? They wouldn’t interrogate him, would they? He turned back to Lord Blake and found him staring hard at the two of them.

“I’m giving you the chance to convince me that there was no malicious intent in bringing that creature here. You’d best do it quickly and well, or your friend may very well face an execution tonight,” Lord Blake ground out.

Dean’s blood ran cold as his mind tried to process everything that had happened. He looked back to Lord Blake and said the first thing that came to mind. “Castiel is family,” Dean managed. Lord Blake merely raised an eyebrow in response.

Dean continued, “My brother and I found Castiel when we were children. We brought him home and a family friend took him in and raised him.”

Lord Blake’s hands clenched into fists and he growled, “So you _did_ know he was fae.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Sam said as he jumped in. “Castiel was raised as a human, though. We never saw any evidence of any of his powers until he was about 13. And he was never dangerous. He loves helping people. The other villagers knew about him and everyone loved him.”

“So the _entire village_ knew the truth about him? And they trusted him?” Lord Blake seemed dubious.

“Yes, My Lord. He even helped save the villagers from the raiders. He risked his life for us. You can ask any of the villagers or Captain Lafitte of the Duke’s guard.”

“I will. I must also inform the Duke of the fae. He will stay in his cell while we investigate in the village, and you and your brother will remain here in our home as well. I ask that you remain in your guest chambers until the investigation is over.”

“Anything you wish, My Lord,” Dean said quietly. “Before we go to our chambers, may I see him? Please?”

“Of course not!” he barked automatically. Lord Blake must have seen the despair that Dean felt, because his face softened. “Perhaps… if the investigation’s results are in your favor.”

Sam stepped forward quickly, answering for Dean. “Very well, My Lord. We wish to cooperate in any way possible.”

“Guards, please escort Sir Winchester and his brother to our guest quarters and keep guard at their door,” Lord Blake commanded before turning and leaving with his daughter. Lady Blake cast one worried glance over her shoulder at the two of them before they both disappeared from sight.

“Yes, My Lord,” the guard responded, and approached Dean. “Shall we, Sir Winchester?” Dean nodded and looked to Sam, who was already looking back. He gave his brother what he hoped was a reassuring nod and moved to follow the guard.

Castiel’s wings were still visible when he was brought past the guards’ offices and to the holding cells. The guards all leaned out of their offices to watch the strange winged creature go by. Castiel heard several of them muttering under their breath. _Fae_ and _unnatural_ were only a few of the things he overheard.

When they cuffed Castiel to the wall, he cried out in pain, his skin turning bright red and blisters flaring up. The guards were surprised to say the least. A higher-ranking guard ordered them to remove the cuffs and find an ointment for Castiel’s skin. When they brought the ointment back, the guard handed the small vial to Castiel herself. She offered him a sympathetic smile, but turned to leave quickly.

There were no windows in the cells, so no moonlight or sunlight were there to light his work, but the flickering torches offered him something. Castiel sat on the small wooden cot and gently applied the ointment to his wrists. The burning heat of the blisters lessened and some of the swelling abated. However, his mind could not be quelled into silence.

Anxiety and worry ruled his emotions. Worry for Dean and Sam. Would Dean lose his knighthood? Would they be arrested and jailed? The way Lord Blake had looked at them _all_ with fury and disdain, Castiel had no idea what Lord Blake might do to his dear friends. Hopefully, he would exercise patience.

Guilt also wracked his heart. How could he have been so stupid to think that he could come to a _noble’s ball_ and not be found out as a fae, and a peasant one at that? He had brought this on himself and his family. They may suffer because he had been selfish, and Castiel wanted to beat his head against the wall, thinking that way. How could Castiel have been so stupid to risk Dean’s reputation and possibly even his livelihood for one night at the ball with the man he loved?

Stupid. Selfish.

Hours passed, and Castiel barely noticed. There was no way to tell time here with no light or clocks. It might have even been a full day, but he supposed not, when the same guard from before brought him a small meal. She stepped in front of the cell, plate in hand, and regarded Castiel through the bars.

“You don’t seem like a monster,” she remarked. Castiel did not respond. “Your wings are actually quite lovely.” She paused once again before stepping forward and reaching through the bars to set the plate of food on the ground inside the cell. She stepped back and said, “You should eat.”

Castiel considered the plate. It was just a crust of bread and a few chunks of cheese. “You don’t need to be so polite,” he found himself saying.

“Why?” she asked as she leaned against a pillar.

“Because of what I am. You must be waiting for an excuse to do something to me,” he explained.

“Do something? What would I want to do to you? You just seem like a man who lost his composure at the wrong time and place.”

Castiel turned to look at her. She was an attractive woman with rich brown hair pulled back into a neat bun. She regarded him dispassionately.

“You don’t hate the fae?” he asked.

“Never met any before,” she said simply. “Don’t know if I hate a man until I meet him, much less a whole race, and you’re the first fae I’ve met.”

“You’re more open minded than some people I’ve met,” Castiel said with a cold smile.

“Maybe not, maybe so,” she said, and turned when a man called her name: Guard Captain Baum. She turned to Castiel one last time and said, “Eat up, Castiel,” before striding away.

When her footsteps faded, Castiel heaved himself off of the rickety cot and grabbed the bread and cheese off of the plate. He didn’t feel like he deserved the food for failing so completely as a friend and family member. He threw it across the cell.

More hours passed, and Castiel eventually dozed off on the cot. He was roused when he heard footsteps approaching. He looked up to see Guard Captain Baum standing in front of his cell again, looking him over.

“You didn’t eat,” she said.

“No.”

“You should eat,” she advised dispassionately.

“Why?”

“Because he’s worried about you,” she said.

Castiel felt his heart clench. He knew that Dean would worry, and he had tried to convince himself that Dean would move on to avoid the trouble that came along with Castiel.

“What’s going to happen to me?” he asked.

“There’s talk of either execution or contacting the fae and handing you over to them,” she replied.

Castiel nodded to himself and said, “They won’t let me stay here. There’s no way. But Dean will fight, because he always fights even if I don’t deserve it. If he fights too hard, it will only damage himself and his family.”

Castiel didn’t deserve the kind of caring and concern Dean would give him, not after he had brought this down on the Winchesters. It might even affect Bobby. If Dean lost his knighthood for associating with a fae spy, the Winchesters and Bobby would be without a home. He couldn’t risk it.

 “He needs to let me go,” Castiel said to himself, but Guard Captain Baum only continued to do her job and watch the prisoner.


	7. Chapter 7

Over the next few days, very little happened other than Dean and Sam staying behind closed doors and worrying about Castiel. They were not allowed to send out their own messages, and their meals were delivered to them, as well as a chess set and a few books when they asked. The guards regarded them cautiously as they delivered the items, as if wondering how such normal people could be involved with a fae. Or maybe Dean was being paranoid.

Otherwise, Dean was left to suffer with his anxiety silently. He was stewing in his own worry in comfort, though. Their chamber was comfortable and warm, with large windows facing the south. It only made Dean wondered more about where Castiel was and how he was being treated. Occasionally, Sam would need to calm him down and remind him that at this point, cooperation and calm was the best strategy.

Dean and Sam were in the middle of yet another game of chess when a knock came at the door. It was Lady Blake. Sam leapt to his feet. They hadn’t seen each other since their dance.

“Lady Blake!” Sam gasped.

“Hello, Master Winchester,” she said with a shy smile as she approached. She nodded to Dean. “Sir Winchester, I bring news.”

“Really? What’s happened? Is your father going to let Castiel out?” Dean asked.

“No, he’s not. He sent the captain of his guard to your village and the villagers confirmed the story. He also spoke with Bobby Singer at Carlow Keep. He believes that Castiel is not dangerous, but my father is still not trusting of him. He has been ordered to bring Castiel in front of the Duke for a hearing.”

“The Duke? Why?”

“Apparently your friend warrants a higher authority. The Duke will decide his fate.”

This could be a good thing, Dean thought. The Duke was good man, he could argue Castiel’s case and really be heard. “Then we will go too. We have to help Cas any way we can.”

“I thought that maybe I could advise you…” Sarah tentatively offered. “We know the Duke very well. I thought I might be able to help you to help your friend.”

“Why would you do that?” Sam asked

“I like you,” she said with a slight blush. Then, she jerked, seeming to realize how that had sounded. “I mean, I believe that you are good people and that the fact that you helped and befriended a fae in my eyes is only endearing. And I believe that we can make the best of this.”

Dean and Sam traded a glance and Sam smiled to the young woman. “Any help you can give us would be appreciated. Thank you, Lady Blake.”

“Please, call me Sarah.”

“Then please, call me Sam.”

Sam’s grin normally would have cheered Dean. He had always enjoyed seeing his younger brother enamored; it happened so little. His constant worry about Castiel darkened any joy or amusement he might have gotten from it, though. He had not seen Castiel since the first night he was put in there. He wanted to know how he was faring.

“Can Castiel be moved from the cells?” Dean asked “Lord Blake knows that he’s no spy or criminal now.”

“I will try to convince him,” she offered. “Father is a logical and fair man, even if he is close-minded.”

“Thank you,” Dean said.

Sam stepped over to the fireplace and gestured to one of the high-backed chairs. “Please, take a seat… Sarah,” Sam said hesitantly, still unsure of the familiar address.

“Thank you.” She took a seat, and Sam and Dean settled into the other two chairs.

“So, what would you advise? What can we do to help Castiel?” Dean asked.

Sarah considered it a moment before saying, “This is not well known, but Mannazlund officials are in regular contact with the fae kingdom.”

Sam blinked in surprise. “Really? But I thought there had been no official dealings with them in hundreds of years.”

“This is true. Contact was established about fifteen years ago when a civil war broke out in the fae kingdom and the human-friendly side contacted the King through magical means. Apparently, the ruling fae King had been running the kingdom into ruin and refused to reach out for help. “

Dean slumped back in his chair, stunned. “Maybe that’s what happened to Cas’ family,” he said. “They were caught in the crossfire of the war.”

Sam nodded. “That would make sense.”

Sarah continued, “Well, the more human-friendly faction is in charge now, and they’re hoping to rebuild with the help of our kingdom. But centuries-old prejudices and distrust are coming from both sides, and the negotiations are slow-going at best.”

“I would imagine. Winning over the people in our village was hard enough for Cas,” Sam agreed.

“So, I think it may work for us that we have a fae so friendly to humans among us. We may be able to use Castiel as a way for humans to learn of the fae and vice-versa.”

Dean scowled. “Cas is not some sort of creature for people to study.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “She’s not saying that, Dean. Cas could be some sort of intermediate between fae and humans.”

“Only if we can convince both sides that they can trust him and Castiel to cooperate. That will not be easy, since he is unknown and has been hiding amongst humans for so long,” Sarah pointed out. “My father may be less inclined to recommend Castiel’s execution, but he is far from comfortable with letting him go free. We cannot rely completely on him.”

“Can I see him now? Can I visit Cas? I just want to make sure he’s alright,” Dean pleaded.

“Yes, you may. You will be supervised, though. My guards will go with you, and your brother will remain here. My father is putting his trust in you, Sir Winchester. Do not betray it.” She turned to the guard nearest to her. “Guard Thomson, please escort Sir Winchester to the holding cells to visit his friend, then back here to his chambers.”

Sam added, “Dean, tell Cas not to worry and that my prayers are with him, okay? And try to prepare him for the hearing, if you can. Tell him about our ideas.”

“Yeah, I’ll do my best. Don’t worry about us,” Dean said as he moved to follow the guard.

He followed the guard out the door and towards the lower parts of the Castle. Past the kitchens, they followed a long corridor to the end where there was a big wooden and iron door with a large lock on it. The guard pulled out his keys and opened the door to reveal a flight of stairs leading them down into another darker corridor. On either side, he saw doors with other guards and offices behind them. At the end was a similar door to the first which the guard unlocked and opened.

The giant iron door swung aside and the guard led him inside. It was a short corridor with three cells on each side, and only torches on the walls for light. Cas would not be happy in such a dark place. He had always enjoyed the light, whether it came from the moon or the sun. The guard led him to the end cell and said, “I’m watching. Do not attempt to give him anything.”

Dean did not hear the guard’s words, though. He saw Castiel leaning against the stone wall behind the iron bars, still dressed in the finery Dean had lent him, wings spread out on either side of him. Dean supposed there was no point in keeping them under wraps any longer. Castiel was peering at his own wrists, where there were horrible blisters and his skin was an angry red. Dean felt his hackles rise.

“Cas!”

Castiel’s head jerked up and as soon as he saw Dean, his face crumpled. “Dean!” he breathed. He stood and walked to the bars. Dean thrust his hands through and reached for the fae.  Castiel took his hands and a tear dripped from his eye. “Dean, I’m so sorry. I should have been able to control it. I don’t know-“

“Cas, shut up. It’s okay.”

“They were just being so _cruel_ to you and I got so _angry_ —“ Had Castiel been wracked with guilt the entire time?

“Cas! Seriously, it’s okay. I’m just worried about you now. What happened here?” he asked as he turned Castiel’s hands over to look at the blisters.

“They tried to put iron cuffs on me. It burned me.”

“Burned you? Is that a fae thing?”

“Yes. Certain kinds of iron burn supernatural creatures.”

Dean felt a flash of anger over Castiel’s injuries, but managed to keep it at bay. “Gods, Cas,” Dean whispered. “I never should have made you come here. I’m so selfish.”

“Dean, no. You didn’t make me do anything. I wanted to come here with you and dance with you.” Castiel sniffled. “I was so happy when you asked me to dance, Dean. In front of all those people.” Another tear slid down his cheek.

Dean lurched forward and strained against the bars. He wanted to gather Castiel into his arms. “Cas…”

“The bars are iron too,” Castiel sighed. “I can’t get too close.”

Dean moved his hands to the sides of Castiel’s face and slid his thumb through the wet trail on his cheek. “Cas, please don’t cry. I’ll get you out of here. We’ve been talking with Lady Blake, and she has some ideas to get you out. Then we can dance all you want.”

“Humans don’t trust the fae, Dean. They’re not going to let me stay in the human world. Especially not with a noble.”

“Maybe they will. Lady Blake told us that human nobles have been negotiating with the fae for years, trying to work out some better relations or a treaty or something. Lady Blake was thinking that a fae that grew up amongst humans may be useful.”

“What? I had no idea humans and fae were in contact,” Castiel said, obviously shocked.

“Yeah, apparently, there was a civil war in the fae kingdom. Do you remember that?”

Castiel eyes went blank as he retreated into his memories, searching. “I…remember everyone was worried a lot. I remember arguments and moving from place to place. I suppose it makes sense now, but then, I didn’t understand what was going on.”

“Well, the more human-friendly fae won out in the end, I guess. And now they want to get some help from the humans if they can. You already know how most humans feel about fae, and apparently, it’s not much better on their side either. A lot of them still don’t like humans.”

Castiel sighed, and his shoulders slumped. “Dean, even if they decide they need some sort of human to fae emissary, why would they choose me? I’m just an orphan from a small village that doesn’t even _know anything_ about the fae.”

“Cas, you can’t think like that. You-“

“I can’t even control my powers, Dean. There’s no way they would leave me in charge of _anything._ I’ve already gotten you in so much trouble. You can’t risk…” Castiel trailed off, and Dean saw a slight quiver in his bottom lip. “You should just go home and forget about me.”

Dean couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Cas, come on-“

“And even if they _do_ want _me_ , which is unlikely, I won’t get to stay with you, Dean.”

“We’ll work something out, Cas,” Dean said. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince himself or Castiel.

“Dean, the most likely outcome of this is that they’ll send me to the fae or lock me away,” Castiel said.

Dean felt the tears well up in his own eyes as an invisible hand constricted around his heart. The very thought of never seeing Castiel again was too much; he couldn’t absorb it. He moved his hand to cup Castiel’s damp cheek. “No, they can’t _do_ that. They can’t take you. I need you, Cas.”

Cas reached up and covered the hand Dean had placed on his cheek with his own. He closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. “Dean…”

“No, Cas. If I have to break you out of here myself, I’ll-“

Dean choked on his words as the guard cleared his voice loudly. Dean looked over his shoulder and the guard fixed him with a hard stare.

“Dean, don’t talk like that. You’ll lose your knighthood. They might arrest you.”

“I don’t care, Cas.” Dean turned back to Castiel, to see his friend’s face full of concern.

“You have to take care of Sam and Bobby, Dean. So, we’re going to say goodbye here and abide with whatever they decide, alright?” As Castiel said it, yet another tear fell from his eye.

Dean’s hand gently squeezed down on Castiel’s cheek and jaw, the only embrace Dean could manage at the moment. “We’ve been together our whole lives…”

“And we were lucky to have that,” Castiel said. He shook his head and took a deep, shaky breath. “I was a fool to think, even for a moment, that I could really have you.”

Dean felt his eyes widen in shock. “Cas, we can still have that. You can still have me. It’s not too late. You can’t give up _now. Not now._ I’ll get you out and we can be together.”

Castiel let out a ragged sob and gazed into Dean’s eyes, managing a weak smile. “I would love that, Dean.”

“Gods Cas, you had to wait until _today_ to tell me?”

A cold laugh ripped from Castiel’s chest.  “Dean, don’t endanger your own safety and the safety of our family for me. Go back up to Sam and take him home.” Castiel pulled Dean’s hands away from his face and dropped them as he backed away.

“Cas, no, come on.” Castiel was out of reach and Dean pressed himself further against the bars, straining for Castiel. He slammed his fist loudly into the bars and didn’t care when he felt the skin of his knuckles split. “Castiel, I _am not_ going to leave you here, damnit!”

“You have to,” Castiel said in a quiet voice. “You need to go.”

Dean was suddenly being yanked back. “That’s enough,” said the guard, and Dean sobered. He looked over at Castiel, who had averted his eyes and sat back down on the floor. He seemed so small and defeated that Dean couldn’t bring himself to fight the guard. If Castiel didn’t care enough to put up a fight, Dean wasn’t sure he could.

He was barely aware of it as the guard pushed him away through the door. He was in a daze, only able to focus on the emptiness left in him now that Castiel had tried to tear himself away. If anyone else had tried to take Castiel away, Dean would have fought tooth and nail. But Castiel pushing him away, even for his own good, was something he didn’t know how to deal with.

 Before he knew it, he was back in their chambers, where Sam was waiting for him.  Sam rushed forward and took Dean by the shoulders. “Dean, what happened? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Is Cas okay?”

“He says that we should just… let him go.”

“’Let him go?’ What do you mean? … What’d you do to your hand?” Sam asked and reached to look at Dean’s knuckles.

Dean didn’t answer the question about his injuries, even as Sam looked over the abrasions. “He says I need to take care of you and Bobby and not endanger my knighthood by vouching for him or trying to get him out.”

“Not endanger- Dean, we might never see him again!”

“He’s given up. You should have seen him, Sammy. He was pale and- and so-”

“Well, I don’t care. We can’t just leave him in there, Dean! He’s family! We don’t have much of that left!”

Dean flinched. They didn’t talk about their parents much.

“Dean, I’m sorry, but we can’t lose Cas. He’s like a brother to me,” Sam insisted, his voice cracking with emotion.

“And what? He’s not my family too?” Dean asked angrily, affronted at the insinuation.

“No, he’s even more than that to you! Which is why it’s confusing me that you’re giving up on him so damn easily. So, we need to fight for Cas even if he won’t fight for himself. Come on, Dean,” Sam said and laid a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

Dean looked into his little brother’s eyes and saw the fierce determination there that he was used to seeing in his father’s eyes. Sam had always been so much like their father that they were bound to fight on occasion. It made Dean suddenly feel ashamed for ever feeling like giving in to his despair.

“Alright, Sammy. We’ll fight for Cas,” Dean agreed.


	8. Chapter 8

The next day, they set out for the city, where the Duke’s home, Castle Brighton, was located. Dean watched out the window of their chambers as Castiel was taken out a side door of the Castle.  Castiel seemed thin and his skin was paler than normal, lacking the exposure to the sun that he usually enjoyed so much. Castiel was pushed into the back of an armored wagon with bars and locks on the windows and door. Dean’s hackles rose at the rough treatment, but was pulled away from the window by Sam. They were ushered into their own carriage while Lord and Lady Blake’s carriage preceded theirs down the road. Castiel’s wagon was in the rear of the procession, surrounded by guards on horseback.

The journey wasn’t a particularly long one, but they would need to stop for the night along the way. The sun was near setting when they stopped. The guards and a few of the servants that had been brought along began pitching tents and cooking. Sam and Dean found themselves without much to do, so they decided to assist. Dean especially needed the distraction. He couldn’t stop looking towards Castiel’s wagon, concern washing over him every time he saw it. The guards standing around it prevented him from daring to approach, lest it hurt Castiel’s case at the hearing.

The servants were very surprised to have their help. However, the tents were erected faster, and the servants cooed over the handsome nobles who were so helpful and kind. Apparently, they were not so used to such generous consideration from the higher ranks. Quickly, the camp was set and a cauldron of stew was bubbling over the camp fire. Sam and Dean were forbidden from helping with the prisoner’s tent. Dean supposed that was to be expected.

Once Castiel’s tent was finished, Dean, Sam, and Lady Blake watched as Castiel was taken from the wagon. Dean noticed that the cuffs around Castiel’s wrists were made of sleeker looking metal than the usual iron.

Lady Blake said, “We had to find him steel cuffs. Apparently, iron burns fae.” She looked to Dean and she must have seen the concern in his eyes. “I’m sorry about that, Sir Winchester, we did not know. We would never have intentionally harmed him.”

“I know that,” he said quietly, and watched as Castiel disappeared behind the tent opening.

Twilight fell, and Sam and Dean joined the servants around the fire at dinner time while Lord and Lady Blake moved back to their own tent.  Logs had been rolled close to the fire for seating. For Sam, it was pleasant to be in the company of common folk after their imprisonment in the Castle’s guest chamber. Unfortunately, it only reminded Dean of happier times, the nights he would spend out in the woods with Castiel and Sam looking up at the stars.  Castiel always seemed particularly invigorated by the moonlight.

Occasionally, he would want to swim in the moonlight. Usually, Sam was asleep, and he would drag Dean out to the river and they would throw off their clothes and jump in. Dean couldn’t help but take the chance to look Castiel over as he glided through the water. The shine of the water as the droplets rolled across Castiel’s skin…

Dean shook those thoughts from his mind. He couldn’t think like that right now. He didn’t even know if he would ever be able to touch Castiel again, let alone anything like that. He was a typical young man, and he had experienced his fair share of sexual adventures with a few girls around the village.

However, he had never gone very far with any boys. They never seemed to measure up. Measure up to what exactly? Dean knew now. Their hair was never dark enough and they were never quite… Castiel. So he stuck with girls mostly. The differences were large enough that he could forget about certain attractions.

Now, though, he was in danger of never seeing Castiel again. After the hearing, if it things went south… he didn’t even want to think about it. He wouldn’t let it happen.

After the dishes from dinner had been cleaned and all food and supplies had been packed away for the night, a servant of Lady Blake’s emerged from her tents and approached Dean. He raised his head in greeting and beckoned him. Dean stood and followed the man and was surprised when he leaned forward to whisper in his ear when they were far enough away from the group. “Lady Blake wishes to give you one small comfort before tomorrow’s hardships. After everyone else has retired, you and you alone may go to the fae’s tent and the guards will let you pass. You will not be interrupted, but do not attempt to make off with the fae,” the young man said simply before turning away, returning to Lady Blake’s tent.

Dean stared after him in shock, but Sam walked over to where Dean stood. “Dean, what was that?”

“Sarah’s managed to let me see Cas before tomorrow,” Dean said distractedly.

Sam’s eyes softened from concern to sympathy. “That’s good, Dean. Seeing you would keep his spirits up. When do you go in?” he asked in a whisper.

“After everyone has retired.”

“We’d better retire then,” Sam said a little more loudly. He nodded to the only two remaining servants left at the fire. “Goodnight to you both. Thank you for the company.”

Dean followed Sam’s lead and moved to follow his brother. “Yes, thank you.”

The servants took time out of their conversation to stand and bow to them both, wishing them a good night. The brothers retreated to their tent where thick, fluffy bed rolls were laid out with blankets and pillows. Dean kicked off his boots, removed his doublet and flopped onto his roll. Sam undressed more fully, properly preparing for sleep.

“What are you going to say to him?” Sam asked from his bed roll after he had settled some.

“I don’t know…” Dean whispered.

A long moment of silence passed before they heard the two servant men finally leave the fire. Once their voices faded, Dean sat up and listened to make sure no one else was walking about. He reached for his boots. As he was pulling them on, Sam said, “Dean… just don’t leave anything unsaid. Okay?”

Dean stopped. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” And with that, Sam turned over and pulled his blankets up to his chin.

Dean was left to contemplate this as he stepped from the tent and peered at the guards outside Castiel’s own. He felt resentment on Castiel’s behalf flare up once again. He hated that everyone seemed to walk on eggshells around Castiel, afraid of the fae’s wrath or something equally silly.

He approached the guard next to the only entrance to Castiel’s tent. The guard looked to Dean and considered him silently. Dean was about to ask for entrance when the guard reached behind him and pulled aside the flap to the tent. Dean nodded his thanks and stepped inside.

On a sparse bedroll in the center of the tent was Castiel. His ankle was wrapped in a metal cuff which was in turn chained to the central supporting post of the tent. He was in plain breeches and an undershirt now, the finery Dean had lent him long gone. His wings were still out and they glowed dully in the faint candlelight of the tent. Castiel looked up from his place on the ground with wide, shocked eyes.

“Dean!” he breathed in alarm. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t worry. Lady Blake arranged for me to visit. As long as I don’t try anything heroic, we’re okay.” Dean stepped forward and bent down to look at the cuff around Castiel’s ankle.  “This doesn’t burn, does it?”

“No, it’s steel, I think, and they padded it this time. Dean, as happy as I am to see you… Why are you here?”

“What do you mean, why am I here? I’m here to see you and…” Dean trailed off, unsure of how to proceed. He sat a little closer to Castiel.

“I had hoped that you would decide to distance yourself,” Castiel said, eyes drifting away. His hands picked at the fraying hem of his undershirt. “You should have.”

“Did you really think I would, Cas?” Dean asked with a scoff as he inched closer to Castiel.

“I should have known that you wouldn’t. You’ve never backed down from a fight in your life,” Castiel said ruefully.

Dean let loose a low laugh. “It’s true. Especially not when you’re in danger.” He reached up and lifted Castiel’s chin to look at him gently. Castiel’s brow was furrowed above an intense stare. Dean continued, “Sam said I shouldn’t leave anything unsaid when I leave in the morning.”

Castiel paused. “Like what?”

Dean took a deep breath and steeled himself for the coming words. Sam was right, he shouldn’t leave anything unsaid. He said shakily, “All the things I should have said to you before we ever went to that silly ball. Like how much I need you.”

Castiel inhaled sharply, his eyes widening ever so slightly. His hands went to Dean’s shoulders, hands scrunching up in the material of Dean’s shirt. They were so close, he could feel Castiel’s breath mingling with his own. He tilted his head and their noses brushed. Castiel’s eyes dropped to Dean’s lips and then rose back to his eyes. “I need you too, Dean,” he whispered, and leaned forward, pressing his lips to Dean’s.

Sparks raced over Dean’s skin and his eyes fluttered shut. He pressed into the kiss, enamored with the feeling of Castiel’s lips, dry and chapped against his own. He had always wondered what it might be like to kiss Castiel, but he wasn’t concerned with that now; he only wanted to be closer to him.  

He wound a hand over Castiel’s shoulder and into his hair. “Cas…” he whispered against the other man’s lips.

Castiel leaned further into Dean and Dean wrapped an arm around Castiel’s waist. They were chest to chest, pressed close, and Dean could feel the heat of Castiel’s skin through his clothes. He sealed his mouth over Castiel’s again as Castiel sighed contentedly. Dean wanted hear more of those happy sounds coming from him.

Dean’s tongue slipped over the seam of Castiel’s lips. The other man gasped lightly, his lips falling open. Dean pulled him in closer and pushed his tongue into Castiel’s mouth. Castiel shuddered in Dean’s arms and gripped him tighter, sliding his tongue against Dean’s. The wet heat of Castiel mouth made Dean feel lightheaded and heavy all at the same time. He felt his cock twitch in interest.

As they explored each other’s mouths, the cool night air warmed against their skin, and Dean could feel the heat spreading through his body. Their breathing was coming faster now and Dean wasn’t sure if he could take it. He abruptly pulled away from Castiel’s lips and leaned his forehead against the fae’s. “Cas, is this… are you…” He trailed off as he tried to figure out what exactly he wanted to say.

Castiel pushed forward and ghosted his lips over the bolt of Dean’s jaw. Dean felt his eyes rolls back and a shiver run up his spine. Castiel pulled back slightly and caught Dean’s eyes. Castiel eyes were misty, but determined. “Dean, even if this is the only time, I could never regret being with you,” Castiel whispered to him.

Dean swallowed heavily and nodded. “Okay, Cas. Okay.” He lay back on the threadbare bed roll and pulled Castiel along with him. The chain connected to his ankle cuff clinked as Castiel threw his leg over Dean, sitting astride Dean’s hips. The sudden pressure on his groin only served to increase the heat he felt in his veins. He felt his cock begin to swell.

Cas was leaning down and reinitiated his exploration of Dean’s throat and jaw with his mouth. One of Dean’s hands found its way into Castiel’s hair while the other was suddenly under his shirt, on his lower back. The feather light touches of Castiel’s lips grew into open mouth kisses and teasing licks which ripped a groan from Dean’s throat. Dean could feel every little twitch and shift of Castiel’s hips in his lap, the hard line of Castiel’s own arousal against him. He desperately wanted to gain some friction against it, but he decided to let Castiel determine the flow of this encounter.

Dean’s hand explored Castiel’s back with increasingly rougher touches and Castiel’s wings made his fingers tingle as his fingers passed through them. He barely noticed as his own shirt rode up. When Castiel’s hand connected with the bare skin of his stomach, Dean felt the muscles there jump and he gasped. He heard Castiel murmur, “Dean…” as his hand smoothed over Dean’s torso. Castiel took hold of the bottom hem of Dean’s shirt and pulled up.

Dean managed to take hold of the shirt and peeled it off quickly. He tossed it aside and when his gaze returned to Castiel, he felt his eyes go wide as he finds Castiel removing his own shirt. Castiel’s smooth skin was exposed to him and he barely noticed as his hands moved up to touch the warm skin of Castiel’s chest. Castiel shuddered and gasped as Dean’s hands grazed his nipples.

He laid back, and Dean got a clear view of the flush and sheen of sweat covering Castiel’s face and neck and the shivers his wings gave as he settled. He felt his chest constrict at the adoring gaze that Castiel was directing at him. They stared at each other, panting for a moment before a shy smile spread across Castiel’s face. Dean couldn’t help but return it. “You’re beautiful, Dean,” Castiel whispered.

Suddenly, Dean’s mouth was being attacked passionately again, and their tongues tangled vigorously, pulling pleased moans from them both. Their hands explored every inch of exposed skin available to them, and Dean’s breath was punched out of him at the first roll of Castiel’s hips. Lightning spread through his veins and heat pooled low in his belly. Dean could feel the insistent press of Castiel’s erection against his hip and the thought of Castiel so heated and writhing is his lap was almost too much to bear.

“Gods, Cas!” he ground out, and his hips bucked up into the delicious pressure. Castiel gasped sharply in Dean’s ear and rolled his hips again in response, erection pressing into Dean. Castiel’s breath puffed hot and moist of the side of Dean’s neck. Dean’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of Castiel’s sides. Gods, he was so hard, he thought he might die from the pressure.

“Deannn…” Castiel whined. “Dean, it feels- Ah! So good.” Castiel jerked and shuddered against Dean. The desperate sound of Castiel’s voice in Dean’s ear and the feeling of Castiel, his best friend, the man he’d been pining after for so long, wrapped around him riled something deep and primal in Dean. Before he could even consider his actions, he grabbed Castiel roughly and rolled them both over.

Castiel moaned loudly as Dean settled himself between Castiel’s thighs and braced his hand on either side of his head. He ground down into Castiel’s hips and watched rapturously as Castiel arched his back and clawed at Dean’s shoulders. Every push of his hips into the fae’s stoked the fire in his belly. He felt their clothed erections align and the friction was glorious. Dean was only spurred on, and he quickened the pace of his hips. Castiel threw his head back and moaned, “Dean!” Dean couldn’t resist the pale expanse of Castiel’s throat and leaned in to attach his mouth to it. “Dean, please!” Castiel begged, but Dean wasn’t sure what for.

Dean sealed his mouth over the skin and sucked. Castiel gasped and writhed beneath him, lifting his legs to wrap around Dean. His nails would no doubt leave marks on Dean’s back, and Dean relished in it. He wanted to be marked by Castiel and he wanted to mark Castiel in return.  He pulled back from Castiel’s throat and saw a red and purple mark blooming where his mouth had been. He shuddered at the sight, his cock jerking in his pants.

“I want them to see, Cas,” Dean panted in Castiel’s ear as his hips continued to work. “I want them to see the marks I leave on you.” Castiel gasped and shook, clinging to Dean desperately. His hips bucked against Dean’s with abandon as Dean continued, “I want them to know that even if you leave…” The fire in Dean’s belly blazed hot and he knew he was close. “… even if you go away, you’ll always be _mine,_ ” Dean ground out with a particularly harsh thrust.

“Yes!” Castiel managed to breathe between desperate pants. “ _Yours,_ Dean. _Always._ ”

And with that, the fire in Dean exploded and he cried out Castiel’s name as his orgasm overtook him. His arms shook and his hips stuttered against Castiel’s as he rode out his ecstasy. He felt the electricity of orgasm fade away and the fog of the afterglow set in as he drifted back down to earth. 

All the while, Castiel chased his own release, continuing to work his hips against Dean. Dean’s eyes focused on Castiel’s face as the other man suddenly stilled, back arching and mouth falling open in a silent cry. Slowly, Castiel’s muscles released and he relaxed into the bedroll beneath him. He panted, trying to regain his breath, looked to Dean, and smiled contentedly. He gently pulled Dean down to settle on top of him. Lazily, Dean took in the slip and slide of their sweaty skin and smell of Castiel, the musk of him, ignoring the dampness in his breeches.

Castiel hummed, pleased and sated, and ran his fingers through Dean’s sweaty hair. “I’ve wanted this for a long time,” he whispered. Dean felt his heart lurch and he buried his face in Castiel’s neck. Castiel continued, “I know that tomorrow is uncertain, Dean. But thank you for this.”

Dean shifted to his side and pulled Castiel’s to his chest, wrapping his arms around the man and holding him tight. “I’ve wanted this too, Cas. I just wish I had acted sooner.” He placed soft kisses in the short hairs at the nape of Castiel’s neck. “I’m sorry,” he murmured into the fae’s hair.

“Me too,” Castiel responded.

They both drifted off, wrapped up in each other, warm and content for now. As the darkness crept in over Dean’s mind, he heard himself mumble, “I love you, Cas.”


	9. Chapter 9

Dean crept out of the tent in the wee hours of the morning. He didn’t wake Castiel; he seemed so peaceful and content. It felt like torture, having to peel himself away from Castiel’s warmth, but he couldn’t risk worsening Castiel’s chances by angering Lord Blake. He pressed a light kiss against Castiel’s cheek and snuck away.

He didn’t dare look at the guards as he walked past, he knew they must have heard the two of them last night. He walked back to the main part of camp where his and Sam’s tent was. The morning chill set into him as Castiel’s warmth was fading, and he shivered. He reached their tent and slipped inside.

Sam turned over and looked up at him blearily from his bed roll. “Dean? Is it time to go?”

“No, Sam. Go back to sleep,” Dean responded as he collapsed onto his own bed roll. However, Sam just threw off his blankets and sat up. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Is Cas okay?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” Dean muttered tiredly.

Sam raised an incredulous eyebrow. “You think so? What did you guys talk about all night?”

Dean huffed, rubbed the back of neck nervously and felt his face heat up.

Confusion passed over Sam’s face for only a moment before understanding replaced it. “Oh. OH! Alright. Okay. I guess that means he’s doing a little better.”

Dean groaned. “Sam-“

“No, I mean it’s good that you two, you know… finally did something about it.”

“Horrible timing, though,” Dean said with a bitter laugh.

“I won’t argue with you about that,” Sam agreed lamely.

They sat in awkward silence before Dean stood and reached for the rest of his clothes. “Well, it doesn’t seem that either of us are going to sleep. Let’s pack up and get ready. It’s going to be a long day.”

As the servants woke, a cold breakfast of bread, cheese and fruit was served. Then the camp was packed up quickly and efficiently, tents dismantled and luggage loaded onto the carriages. It was a mostly quiet morning, and Dean kept looking towards Castiel’s tent. A guard had brought some food inside earlier, but he had not seen Castiel yet. Eventually, it was time to dismantle Castiel’s tent and the fae was brought out.

Dean almost went to him, wishing he could gather him into his arms and tell him not to worry. He looked so small with the steel cuffs on his wrists and the hulking guards in their armor surrounding him. While the guards opened the back of the armored wagon, Castiel turned his face to the sky and closed his eyes, just drinking in the light.

Then, Castiel‘s face turned towards Dean as if he had known he was being watched. Castiel smiled and for just a moment, Dean saw the tension leave his frame. It felt good to see Castiel smile like that again. He seemed almost invigorated when he turned away and was ushered into the wagon.

Dean was pulled from his reverie by a tap to the shoulder. He turned to find Sam staring at him intently. “He looked okay. Apparently, he had a good night,” Sam teased.

“Shut up, Sammy,” Dean grumbled. “Not now.”

“Yeah, sorry. I’ll stop,” Sam said, chastened.

Dean moved to their carriage and climbed inside, mind already pouring over what they may encounter when they arrived.

They arrived at the town surrounding the Castle only four hours later. Castiel hadn’t been to a town this big in many years, and it was amazing to see all the multi-storied buildings and huge marketplaces. It was intimidating, to be honest. This is where people go to earn degrees and make their lives better and affect the world, not pine after your friend and mess about in a garden while trying to hide your true nature.

He strained to look out the bars of the windows without touching the iron of the bars. The carriage procession went mostly unnoticed. The hearing must be private; it would be bad to let the public know about a potential fae spy. The government might appear weak.

Castiel relaxed into the wooden seat of the wagon. He was nervous; he would be insane not to be. This hearing was all that had been on his mind since his seizure at the ball. Well, that wasn’t true. Since last night, his thoughts had been filled with Dean as well. The feel of him, the taste of his skin, and the way Dean sounded as he found release in Castiel’s arms, _because_ of Castiel. The memory of it was almost enough to arouse him completely. Was Dean thinking of him in the same way?

Last night, just as he had drifted off to sleep, he could have sworn that Dean had said that he loved him, even if it was sleepily mumbled. Castiel had not dared to move or saying anything as Dean fell asleep. He eventually fell asleep himself and had some very pleasant dreams. The morning chill woke him, and he discovered that he was alone again. He had wished that Dean had woken him before he left, but understood why he had left. Castiel was extremely lucky to even have that one night with Dean; it was unreasonable to expect more.

He was ripped from his reverie as the wagon lurched to a stop. He leaned forward and peered out the window as best he could. He saw high stone walls and heard the guards walking around and talking. They had arrived.

The locks on the door clanked as they were undone, and the hinges groaned as the door was pulled open. Guard Captain Baum was there, giving him a sympathetic smile. “Hello, Castiel. It seems you are being taken directly to the hearing. Something about special consultants.”

“Oh… I thought- Alright.” Castiel had hoped that maybe they would have another night before the hearing. Maybe he would have a chance to see Dean, and maybe even Sam again before his fate was decided. Apparently not.

Guard Captain Baum entered the wagon and began to unchain his cuffs from the wall of the wagon. Once he was unchained, he was led outside. He blinked in the sunlight and looked around.

They were in a mostly barren courtyard, where the carriages were taken once empty. He saw the carriage that the Winchesters had been traveling in. It was empty, the Winchesters probably already inside. Several guards from the Duke’s Castle stood by a side entrance, lined up and waiting. Their commanding officer stepped forward and spoke to Guard Baum. Castiel jerked with a start when he recognized the man.

“I am Captain Lafitte, commanding officer here at Castle Brighton,” he said somberly. He turned to Castiel and gave him a weary smile. “Hello, Castiel. I had hoped we would see each other again, but not like this.”

Castiel scoffed. “This is not how I had pictured my life progressing either, Captain Lafitte. It is good to see another friendly face, though.”

“I will take the prisoner from here and escort him to the hearing,” Captain Lafitte said to Guard Captain Baum.

Guard Baum nodded and handed over the chain that Castiel’s cuffs were attached to. She turned to Castiel again and put a hand on his shoulder. “Good luck Castiel,” she said softly.

“Thank you, Guard Captain Baum,” he responded with as reassuring a smile as he could manage.

Then, Castiel was being led away. The castle guards moved into formation around Captain Lafitte and Castiel and they moved into the Castle. They were led down a long corridor with no other doors and a high ceiling, glass windows lighting their way.

“This hall leads directly to the court room. There’s a back entrance for any special guests we might have. I suppose you qualify,” Captain Lafitte explained.

“Thank you for not reacting to me like I’m some sort of monster, Captain. I appreciate your kindness,” Castiel said.

“You’re not the first fae I’ve met, Castiel,” Captain Lafitte said with slight amusement.

Castiel’s head jerked up, eyes wide. “What? How? Where?”

“Unfortunately, I can’t divulge the details of that. However, you are going to be very surprised by what you find at the hearing, Castiel,” Captain Lafitte said simply.

Were there fae at the hearing? Were they the ‘special consultants’ that Guard Captain Baum had mentioned? Had there been fae in the castle before this?

“Calm yourself, Castiel. I can only tell you that I believe you will be alright,” Captain Lafitte assured as they reached the end of the corridor.

The door before them was simple, but large. One of the guards in the front reached out and opened it, stepping in. He heard the guard call out, “Captain Lafitte has arrived with the fae prisoner!”

Another voice inside called back, “Bring the prisoner forward!”

“Show time,” Captain Lafitte muttered to himself, and they all moved forward.

Castiel stepped through the door and was suddenly in the largest room he had ever seen. Seats surrounded a dais, climbing up the walls like an arena, all empty.  Before the dais were two rows of seats, side by side, each with a table in front of them, where he saw Sam and Dean sitting with, of all people, his adopted father, Bobby Singer. The Blakes or Guard Captain Baum must have sent him a letter letting him know of the hearing. His heart clenched at the sight. He would get to see his family before his fate was decided, even if from afar.  All three of them watched Castiel as he was brought from the back of the arena seating towards the dais. He could see the concern written plainly across their faces.

There were more chairs to the left of where his family sat with more people sitting there, and Castiel gasped as he took in their appearance.  There were about five of them, with varying sizes and colors of wings protruding from their backs. They were all staring wide-eyed in Castiel’s direction.  One woman with bright red hair and soft yellow wings in the shape of a butterfly’s was even crying. Something in the back of Castiel’s mind stirred at the sight. Before he could truly consider the group, he was ushered forward again.

In front of him sat Duke Henriksen on his throne, stern faced and staring at Castiel. Castiel felt his heart speed up and sweat bead up on the back of his neck. It was all too real suddenly. Castiel looked away from him as he stepped up onto the dais where he was brought to a podium, and Captain Lafitte moved to attach his chains to a bar near his feet.  Duke Henriksen interrupted him, though, “Captain Lafitte, you may remove the prisoner’s restraints.”

Surprise and confusion raced through Castiel mind and he searched the Duke’s face for an explanation. Captain Lafitte looked between Castiel’s chains and the Duke for only a fleeting moment before completely unlocking Castiel’s cuffed hands and removing all the chains. He stepped away and took up his post to the side of the proceedings.

An attendant stepped forward and spoke, his voice carrying well in the large room. “Castiel Singer, you have been brought before His Grace Duke Henriksen to determine your fate. You have been accused of being a fae spy. How do you plead?”

Castiel hesitated only a moment before he said, “Innocent. I am no spy.”

Duke Henriksen waved the attendant away and spoke himself. “Master Singer, we actually have little reason to believe you are or ever have been a spy. Lord Blake has informed us of the results of his investigation in your home village. This hearing has taken another turn, a surprising one.” Duke Henriksen paused as he leaned forward in his throne. “Master Singer, I’ve been informed that you were found in the forest near your home by the Winchesters fourteen years ago. Is this true?”

Castiel hesitated a moment. Where was this going? “Yes it is, Your Grace.”

The Duke nodded and continued, “About that time, a civil war broke out in Neamhia due to a desired change in policies and regime. The ruling family was thrown out and a new one took power… Master Singer, how much do you remember from before you arrived in the forest near the Winchesters’ home?”

“Your Grace, I don’t understand… What does this-“

The Attendant stepped forward, and barked, “Prisoner, you will answer His Grace’s questions! Immediately.”

Castiel heard a chair scrape against the stone floor he turned around to look behind him. He saw Dean standing with Sam trying to pull him back down into his seat and Dean’s face was contorted with anger and frustration.

Duke Henriksen asked, “Is there a problem, Sir Winchester?”

Sam called out, “No, Your Grace! Please continue,” and finally managed to manhandle Dean into his seat. Dean just continued to glare at the attendant.

Duke Henriksen rolled his eyes and said, “Master Singer, please continue.”

Castiel paused as he pulled the memories from the back of his mind. “Your Grace, I remember moving from place to place with my brothers and sisters,” Castiel began. “My father was elsewhere, working. Everyone was very upset and stressed; I didn’t understand why at the time, I was too young, I suppose. One night, my brother Gabriel came bursting into my room and woke me. He told me to run, that I had to leave and run as far away as I could. He took me to the window and I could hear people yelling and things breaking things inside the house. I was scared, I flew away. I kept going until I was too tired. I had no idea where I had come from or how to get back there. I never knew what happened to them, I thought maybe they had been attacked and killed. I stayed there for two days, eating berries and the occasional mushroom until the Winchester brothers found me and took me home with them. I would have died without their kindness.”

“What do you remember of your siblings, Master Singer?”

Castiel was taken aback again. Why would the Duke be so concerned with Castiel’s past like this? “I was the youngest of five. I was… six or seven years younger than my sister, Anael. Then the next oldest was Gabriel, then Lucifer, and then Michael, my brothers.”

Duke Henriksen regarded him for a moment, his face inscrutable. Castiel was confused and scared, why was the Duke so interested in his family? He was an orphan. Then, the Duke said, as he gestured for someone behind Castiel to come closer, “Master Singer… These are some of the high ranking delegated from Neamhia that we have been working with over the past few years. They believe they may know you. ”

Castiel’s head whipped around to look behind him. The same red-headed fae woman from earlier and three fae men stood there. The next had blonde hair and darker blue eyes, and the last was a man who stood shorter than Castiel, with brown hair and golden eyes. Castiel could swear he could hear ringing in his ears as he stared at them. He had seen the red-haired woman earlier, but he hadn’t even made the connection…

“Anael?” He breathed weakly.

The red haired woman stepped forward and nodded, her eyes shining wetly. Castiel’s eyes moved to the other end of the line of fae where the shortest man stood. He wore a cheeky grin on his face, but there was nothing malicious in it, just playful joy. “Gabriel?” He nodded as well.

The tallest of them stepped forward, with dark hair and pale eyes. “And do you remember me?” He asked.

“Michael,” Castiel said and turned to the last of them, the blonde haired man. “And Lucifer.” He felt his heart racing and his mind spinning. The attendant stepped forward and barked, “Prisoner, you will answer His Grace’s questions! Immediately.”

Castiel heard a chair scrape against the stone floor. He turned around to look behind him. He saw Dean standing with Sam trying to pull him back down into his seat. Dean’s face was contorted with anger and frustration.

Duke Henriksen asked, “Is there a problem, Sir Winchester?”

Sam called out, “No, Your Grace! Please continue,” and finally managed to manhandle Dean into his seat. Dean just continued to glare at the attendant.

Duke Henriksen rolled his eyes and said, “Master Singer, please continue.”

Castiel paused as he recalled the memories. “Your Grace, I remember moving from place to place with my brothers and sisters,” Castiel began. “My father was elsewhere, working. Everyone was very upset and stressed; I didn’t understand why at the time, I was too young, I suppose. One night, my brother Gabriel came bursting into my room and woke me. He told me to run, that I had to leave and run as far away as I could. He took me to the window, and I could hear people yelling and things breaking inside the house. I was scared, I flew away. I kept going until I was too tired. I had no idea where I had come from or how to get back there. I never knew what happened to them, I thought maybe they had been attacked and killed. I stayed there for two days, eating berries and the occasional mushroom until the Winchester brothers found me and took me home with them. I would have died without their kindness.”

“What do you remember of your siblings, Master Singer?”

Castiel was taken aback again. Why would the Duke be so concerned with Castiel’s past like this? “I was the youngest of five. I was… six or seven years younger than my sister, Anael. Then the next oldest was Gabriel, then Lucifer, and then Michael, my brothers.”

Duke Henriksen regarded him for a moment, his face inscrutable. Castiel was confused and scared; why was the Duke so interested in his family? He was an orphan. Then, the Duke said, as he gestured for someone behind Castiel to come closer, “Master Singer… These are some of the high-ranking delegates from the fae kingdom that we have been working with over the past few years. They believe they may know you. ”

Castiel turned to look behind him. The same red-headed fae woman from earlier and three fae men stood there. The next had blond hair and darker blue eyes, and the last was a man who stood shorter than Castiel, with brown hair and golden eyes. Castiel could swear he could hear ringing in his ears as he stared at them. He had seen the red-haired woman earlier, but he hadn’t even made the connection…

“Anael?” he breathed weakly.

The red haired woman stepped forward and nodded, her eyes shining wetly. Castiel’s eyes moved to the other end of the line of fae where the shortest man stood. He wore a cheeky grin on his face, but there was nothing malicious in it, just playful joy. “Gabriel?” He nodded as well.

The tallest of them stepped forward, with dark hair and pale eyes. “And do you remember me?” he asked.

“Michael,” Castiel said, and turned to the last of them, the blond haired man. “And Lucifer.” He felt his heart racing and his mind spinning. “How…?”

Michael spoke, “We received the Duke’s message with your description and the story of how you came to the humans. We did not know for sure, but we hoped that it would be you. We thought you were dead, Castiel.”

Castiel’s breathing was coming fast now, and the ringing in his ears had not stopped. This was too incredible, too far-fetched.  He blurted out, “What happened? Why did you send me away that night? And… what about father?”

Michael sighed and glanced at the rest of his siblings. “Apparently, you don’t remember much. Father was one of the key leaders of the opposition, Castiel. That’s why he left so often. Sometime I would work with him, but when things became dangerous and our family was targeted, he left me in charge of all of us. I had to move us frequently to keep the current regime at the time from finding us and, well, killing us. I suppose I didn’t move us fast enough, and one night, we were found and attacked. You were too young to fight, Castiel, and they were quickly overtaking the house we were staying in.”

Gabriel spoke up, “I did the only thing I could think of. I told you to run.”

Michael said, “We were rescued by some reinforcements and were able to fight them off, but by the time we had a chance to search, you were long gone. Locator spells wouldn’t work because you were so young and your powers were underdeveloped, they didn’t register with the spell.”

Castiel nodded, his mind racing to take this all in. “And Father?”

Anael spoke, her voice wavering. “Father died, Castiel. Shortly after that night, he was found and executed. Michael took over as leader of the opposition.”

A pang of hurt raced across Castiel’ chest. Castiel barely remembered his father. He had always been away, working. None the less, some part of him had always hoped that he might see him again, and now he knew for certain that it would never happen. He felt his heart lurch again at the thought and a lump formed in his throat. He nodded his acknowledgment of the new information, but was engulfed in a hug before he could say anything.

Anael’s arms wound around him tightly as she stepped up onto the podium with him and whispered, “Castiel, I’m so sorry.” She squeezed tighter, and Castiel couldn’t help but return the gesture. He wrapped his arms around his long lost sister and buried his face in her hair.

Anael continued, “I’m sorry you’ve been all alone, Castiel. You must have been so scared, living alone amongst these humans.”

Castiel stiffened. “Scared? Why would I be scared?” Castiel asked as pulled away to look at her face.

Anael’s mouth opened and closed a couple times before Lucifer stepped in. “Humans are not exactly known for their acceptance of fae,” Lucifer said. “We can only imagine how you were treated.”

Castiel stepped back from them both. “I’ll have you know that I was never mis-“ he started indignantly.

Duke Henriksen’s voice cut through their conversation. “Perhaps our fae guests would like to meet Castiel’s adopted family?” He gestured to where the Winchesters and Bobby were sitting, beckoning to them. All three of them stood and approached, Dean leading the way. Castiel’s heart throbbed at the sight of them.

“My dear guests, this is Sir Winchester, his brother Samuel, and Master Bobby Singer,” Duke Henriksen explained. “They are the humans that took Castiel in, raised him, and befriended him.”

Dean stepped forward and gave a polite bow to the group. “Hello, I am Sir Dean Winchester. I want you to know that Castiel was always like family to us.”

Bobby stepped forward as well. “Castiel is as much my son as any boy I would have had with my wife. I’m proud to call him my son.”

Castiel felt warmth fill him as his family spoke.

The group of fae stared at them, obviously unsure what to say. Anael spoke first. “I apologize. When we heard that the man who might have been our brother had been living amongst humans, I just…assumed that…” she trailed off, but everyone knew what she meant.

“Cas did meet some prejudice early on,” Bobby explained. “Me and the Winchesters were accepting enough. But eventually, some kids from the neighborhood pushed him too far one day and Castiel revealed himself as a fae.”

Sam jumped in, “Cas won most of them over in time. Though there were a few that never really warmed to him.”

Gabriel looked to Castiel with an amused smirk. “Cas?”

Castiel was confused. “Do fae not use nicknames?” he asked.

“Maybe it’s something we can learn from humans,” Gabriel said. “Oh! Like how to cook those lovely desserts. Humans are really creative with their food,” he said excitedly.

Castiel laughed, suddenly reminded of Gabriel’s light-hearted nature from when they were young. He had loved playing with Gabriel. “I learned how to cook, growing up with Bobby. I can teach you about human desserts, Gabriel,” he offered.

Gabriel’s eyes went wide. “That would be great! I’ve only gotten to try a few. That way, I can try everything!”

The group laughed at Gabriel’s enthusiasm, and Castiel had almost forgotten why there were all there until Duke Henriksen cleared his voice. The group turned to the Duke, waiting.

“As endearing as this reunion is, we have matters to attend to. Now that we have confirmed that Castiel is indeed your long-lost sibling, we have to decide his fate.”

Michael stepped up, and said, “Well, he’ll come with us, of course. We’ll take him home.”

Castiel felt his blood run cold and was about voice his fear when Dean barreled through the group and attempted to stare down Michael. “Cas’ home is with _us._  We are his _family,_ ” he growled.

“No, _we_ are his family,” Michael rumbled, affronted at the aggressive behavior. “He belongs with his _own kind._ ”

Lucifer moved next to Michael and glared at the impudent human. “Exactly. There’s no way a _human_ family could ever be right for fae,” he spat with disdain.

“Enough!” barked Duke Henriksen. He climbed down from his throne and approached them. “We will not break down into a group of squabbling children. We are working towards better human-fae relations, are we not? You’ve lost family members to the cause, have you not? I would think that you would be more understanding of the cause that your father died for,” Henriksen said with a piercing gaze directed at Michael and Lucifer. They nodded, and their posture deflated.

A voice broke out from behind them all. “Your Grace, I believe that this situation may be used to both sides’ advantage.”

Everyone turned to find Lady Blake approaching, her father seemingly scandalized behind her for speaking out to the Duke. She continued, “Castiel is a man of both worlds, is he not? Born a fae and raised with humans. He would serve well as an intermediary or ambassador.”

The Duke raised an eyebrow at the young lady, then turned to Castiel to consider him carefully. “We had been considering creating such a position,” the Duke said.

Michael said, “But Castiel barely knows anything about fae culture or the struggle we’ve been through.”

Lady Blake retorted, “Never the less, Castiel is more knowledgeable of Mannazlund than any other fae, and he already has good relations with two nobles – Sir Winchester and myself.”

Duke Henriksen considered this silently for a moment. “I’m not sure the King would approve of an unknown fae becoming an ambassador to the fae kingdom, despite his qualifications. The King would prefer a noble.”

Anael pointed out, “We are a high-ranking family in fae society. Castiel is of high rank by association.”

Duke Henriksen nodded. “True, his association with you would help. The King, however, puts a lot of stock in human nobility and old habits of distrust are interfering.”

Lucifer scowled and ground out, “He wants a human.”

The Duke sighed and ran a hand over his face. “I will not deny it. The kingdom has come a long way in human-fae relations, but not far enough. However, if we wish to continue improving upon our situation, we must play with the cards we are dealt, not the ones we wish we had. And unfortunately, I doubt that letting a fae stay in the kingdom without good reason would be allowed.” Duke Henriksen settled his gaze on Castiel with this last statement.

“So… I’ll have to leave?” Castiel choked out, feeling the same cold run through his veins again.

Gabriel stepped forward and put a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. You won’t be alone with us around.”

Anael added, “And there are more people that would love to see you again, Castiel.”

Castiel stammered, “What about my family here? Could I visit them?”

“Only fae on official business are allowed into the human’s kingdom for now. We’re working on allowing for visitations and maybe even immigration, but it is slow progress at best,” Michael said.

“So… I may never see them again?” Castiel asked, nervously averting his gaze.

“I’m sorry, Castiel,” Michael said, his eyes lowered to the floor.

“No!” Dean bellowed.

Castiel’s and everyone else’s heads spun around to look at the Knight currently seething, standing just outside the circle of fae and humans. “I am _not_ going to let you take Castiel away, where I’ll never see him again!” he growled.

Castiel was suddenly racing towards Dean. He reached the other man and they were immediately wrapped in each other’s arms. Castiel shook in Dean’s arms, and Dean muttered, “They can’t take you if we don’t let them, Cas.”

“What can we do, Dean? I’m not a noble, I’m not human, I can’t stay here,” Castiel said, feeling his knees shake beneath him.

Dean breathed deep against him once, then pulled back. Castiel clung to him, refusing to let this moment go if it was the last one he would ever have with Dean. Dean lifted Castiel’s chin with a gentle nudge of his finger. Castiel lifted his eyes to Dean’s to find them hopeful and determined.

“What if you _were_ a noble?” Dean asked quietly.

“What?”

“What if you married me?”

“Dean what are you _saying_ -“

From behind the pair, Lucifer blurted out, “Castiel, are you… _involved_ with this man?” His surprise and derision were evident.

Castiel turned to Lucifer and his fae family. They all had curiosity and surprise plainly written across their faces. Staying still, the group stared at him expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

The Duke also questioned, “Yes, Sir Winchester, are you romantically involved with this fae?”

Dean surprised Castiel greatly by immediately saying, “Yes, Your Grace.”

“And you are asking him to marry you?” the Duke clarified warily.

Without hesitation, Dean answered, “Yes, I am.”

“Absolutely not!” came a voice. One of the other fae that had not spoken until now rose from his seat and moved to the group, scowling. “We cannot allow our kind to _marry_ with a _human,”_ he ground out. He was a paunchy, balding fae with dull grey wings. “We are a proud race, and _cannot_ dilute our blood-lines with a non-magical union.”

The Duke frowned at the newcomer to the conversation. “Zachariah, I find your comments disquieting. Do you believe humans less worthy than fae? Inferior?”

Michael fixed Zachariah with a hard stare. “Zachariah would not say such things, Your Grace. He knows the importance of acceptance of humans in our new regime. He also knows not to _speak out of turn_.”

Zachariah cowed under Michael’s hard stare and his posture deflated. “Of course, I apologize,” he said quietly, and stepped back, but his glare continued.

Dean ignored them, turned back to Castiel and continued to speak. “Cas. You would be a noble if we married, and we could stay together. If you went to the fae kingdom, I could go with you and you could stay with me here.”

“Dean, we couldn’t… could we?” Castiel turned to ask the Duke, who had been listening.

The Duke sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “A marriage of this kind would be unprecedented. Is there anything in the law prohibiting human-fae marriage?” the Duke asked his attendant.

“I do not know, Your Grace. We would need to consult one of the law scholars,” he responded.

Sam’s voice rang out, “There is no law specifically prohibiting it, sir. It was never an issue before, so those particular words were not included.”

The Duke and the attendant eyed the younger Winchester. “Master Winchester, you are an expert on law?” the Duke asked, skeptical.

Bobby said, “This boy has been studying law and supernatural lore since he was old enough to read, Your Grace.”

The Duke considered the young man for only a moment before he said, “Impressive, but, regardless, we will have to double check your memory, Samuel,” with a kind smile. The Duke motioned to the attendant, who ran off to supposedly find a law scholar. Castiel imagined they would not be far from the court room.

Lord Blake was suddenly among them, settling a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. He said, “Your Grace, a marriage between a human and a fae would only serve any future negotiations or treaties, especially considering Sir Winchester’s popularity amongst the nobles.”

Lady Blake added, “Yes! When we inform the masses about the fae negotiations, the public would follow by example. If a popular knight was willing to marry a fae, then they would be more curious and accepting.”

Gabriel mentioned, “Many fae would feel safer interacting with humans if they knew that humans were more accepting, and an interspecies marriage would go a long way in that.”

Michael nodded, considering. He looked to the Duke and asked, “What do you think, Your Grace?”

“I cannot argue with the logic,” the Duke said, his hand moving up to stroke his goatee. “The only downside I could see is some opposition to such a bold step, or some may see it as a political maneuver.”

Anael spoke up. “If Sir Winchester and Castiel were amenable, we could have them do a tour of both kingdoms. Many of the fae in our kingdom would be seeing a human for the first time ever, and if it was a human so clearly,” she waved vaguely in the couple’s direction, “in love with one of their own kind, they would be more willing to be accepting.”

Sam grabbed Dean by the shoulder and turned him around. “Dean, I know you’re not fond of the limelight, but would you be willing to do that?”

Dean’s eyes found Castiel’s and a small, nervous smile graced his features. “I mean, I’m going to complain a little, don’t delude yourself… but I’d do anything to keep Cas with me. I love him.”

Castiel could have sworn that his heart was going to grow and burst out of his chest in that moment. He felt tears well up in his eyes, and his hand moved to cup Dean’s cheek. He pulled the other man in and laid a chaste kiss on his lips, then buried his face in Dean’s neck. Dean gathered him up and embraced him, almost lifting Castiel off of his feet.

“I don’t think the tour would need to be very long. Look at them! The sweetness is going to rot my teeth. No one will doubt that they’re in love,” Gabriel exclaimed.

“Seriously, boys, maybe tone it down a bit,” Bobby grumbled. Castiel felt his face flush and they pulled away from each other, though Dean kept his arms wrapped around Castiel’s waist. It felt grounding, empowering, comforting.

A door opened and the group turned to see the Duke’s attendant returning. He joined the Duke at his side and reported, “The scholars found no evidence of any law prohibiting an interspecies marriage such at this, Your Grace. It is left to your ruling.”

All eyes turned to the Duke. He smiled and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Sir Winchester, you may ask anyone you wish to marry you.”

Dean chuckled and pulled back from the embrace, turned to Castiel’s family, and squared his shoulders. He fixed his gaze on Michael, the oldest. “If you would allow me, I would like to ask for Castiel’s hand in marriage.”

Castiel held his breath as Michael scrutinized Dean. Michael sighed and said, “Sir Winchester, I can see that you love my brother and that he loves you. I cannot deny Castiel his love. I only ask that we be allowed to reacquaint Castiel with his fae family and heritage.”

Dean let out a shaky breath, as he had also been holding his breath as he waited for Michael’s answer. “Of course! Thank you, thank you so much,” he babbled, then turned to Castiel, his face alight with joy. “Cas-“ he started, but seemed to think better of himself. He dropped to one knee and Castiel felt goose bumps spread all across his body. Dean yanked his mother’s wedding band off of his right hand and held it out to Castiel. “Castiel, would you please be my husband?”

Castiel took a deep breath and dropped to his own knees, locking eyes with Dean. He reached out, wrapped his hands around Dean’s, and replied, “Dean Winchester, nothing would make me happier.” A wide smile split Dean’s face, and Castiel could see the mistiness overtake Dean’s eyes.

He took the ring from Dean’s hand and slid it onto his own in the proper place. Dean pulled his father’s wedding ring from his right hand and slipped it onto his left hand. Castiel reached out and pulled Dean into a tight embrace.

“Dean, I love you so much. Thank you,” he said quietly.

“For what?” Dean mumbled into his shirt.

“For not letting me give up,” Castiel said as he carefully placed a kiss in Dean’s hair.


	10. Chapter 10

The next week, it was announced to the public about the negotiations with the fae along with an announcement of the King’s support of the Duke’s efforts to improve human and fae relations. When the Duke held court after that, more nobles than ever before had turned up. Castiel’s fae family attended and it was the first time that many of the nobles had ever seen a fae, let alone spoken to one. Michael gave a speech about the hopes of their efforts and the court applauded it heartily.

After another month of public meetings between the fae and the nobles and news filtering through to the public, it was determined that it was time to announce Sir Winchester and Castiel’s engagement. The Duke gave a speech to public from the balcony overlooking the wall of his Castle and over a large courtyard. He introduced the fledgling knight and his fae fiancé to a large and curious crowd with confidence and authority.

Dean and Castiel were nervous, but did their best to seem happy and in love. It wasn’t that difficult. Dean had always been good at charming people and as he dipped his fiancé back and layed a passionate kiss on him, the crowd laughed and cheered. The overall response was mixed. Some were shocked and disgusted, most were intrigued and curious, a few were even indifferent. Castiel was mostly happy to never have to hide his wings or powers again.

The wedding was set for mid-fall and would take place at the Castle Brighton just as the leaves were turning to the golds and reds of the season. More fae than ever seen in Mannazlund before were due to travel to Castle Brighton for the occasion and even the King was sent word that he intended to attend. Despite the loom of such an important event and such prominent visitors, Dean and Castiel were inseparable. Servants around the Castle tittered in amusement and warmth at their flirting, after the adjusted to sight of Castiel’s wings. Their family members mostly just rolled their eyes and moved on.

Sam and Sarah Blake spent a lot of time together as well. Dean teased his younger brother for the doe-eyes he made at the young woman, but he was truly happy for him. Sarah quickly worked her way into Dean’s and the rest of their extended family’s hearts. She didn’t have to work very hard, though; she had already helped so much with Castiel’s case.

In the weeks before the wedding, everyone Dean or Castiel had ever know or loved were invited to the wedding. All the friends that they had made at Carlow Keep and old friends from their village began to arrive a few days before the main event. Charlie complained that a fae had been right under her nose all along and she never knew, then peppered Castiel with questions. Ellen revealed that she had had some suspicions about the fae, but never voiced them. Everyone was happy for them, though. Everyone was given quarters at the Castle and they dined together in the evening, laughing boisterously and reminiscing. Dean and Castiel had never been happier in their lives.

They spent their days preparing for the wedding. They visited with tailors, delegates, florists, nobles and took whatever chances they could to see each other and their families. Castiel spent a lot of time with his siblings, learning of their lives since their separation and learning the basics of the current social and political dealings in Neamhia. Dean and Castiel were forced spent their nights apart, though. The scandal of two unwed fiancés sleeping together had to be avoided in such a closely scrutinized marriage.

The day before the wedding, the King arrived in a flurry of fanfare. Dean, Castiel, the Duke, Lord and Lady Blake and Castiel’s fae family were there to greet him. The king strode out of his carriage with the queen beside him, resplendent in fine clothes and glittering jewelry. He and offered the Duke his thanks and moved on to Dean and Castiel. Dean had expected to be more intimidated by the man, but up close, he was like any other man; older, with a receding hairline and lines of age and experience across his face. The King looked between the two of them, saw their clasped hands and a small, pleased smile spread across his face. He offered his congratulations to them both and moved into the Castle with the Duke.

The day of the wedding arrived and both Dean and Castiel were whisked up in a flurry of preparation and ceremonies. Apparently, there was an age-old tradition of a purification ceremony that Castiel was harangued into practicing by his siblings. It involved pungent oils and blessed waters and all manner of things that Castiel was just learning about. Dean’s preparation were simpler; a visit to the chapel by himself to pray for guidance and a blessing on his marriage. Dean wasn’t partial such religious things, but he was told some advisors that he might cause an uproar if the tradition was ignored. He was also given superstitious little bells and whistles to carry with him into the ceremony.

Stories were later told about the look in Dean’s eyes as he caught sight of Castiel in the church. They both wore fine garments of white embroidered in gold for Dean and silver for Castiel. It was rumored that they almost glowed in their happiness. They joined hands at the altar and a human priest and a fae shaman both said their pieces before Dean and Castiel exchanged their vows.They both kept the rings from Dean’s parents on their hands and used newly crafted rings as their own wedding bands, each made of gold with fae runes of blessing on them. A kiss sealed the bond into permanency and the crowd watching erupted with cheer.

Later that night, after much drinking, dancing and singing, the two newlyweds stumbled into their wedding suite, laughing. Their doublets were open and their clothes disheveled, but neither cared much about appearances at this point. Dean had his arms wrapped around his husband in seconds, pulling him in for a fervent kiss. Castiel wrapped himself around his husband in turn and returned every ounce of passion that Dean was pouring into him.

Dean whispered against his lips, “Castiel Winchester,” and smiled.

Castiel felt his heart warm and smiled back. “I like it,” he said.

“I love it,” Dean growled amusedly and attacked Castiel’s mouth once again, pushing his tongue inside. 

Castiel moaned and unashamedly pulled Dean towards the lavish bed against the wall. They collapsed onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and half removed clothes. They crawled all the way onto the bed with Castiel on his back and Dean on his side, leaning over him, teasing Castiel’s neck with kisses and licks. Dean pulled back and stared adoringly at his husband. Castiel’s smile spread even wider across his face.

“What?” Castiel asked.

“You’ve always been so beautiful,” Dean answered, trailing his fingers down Castiel’s chest. “I never thought… I never thought I would ever be able to have you like this, in my arms, letting me love you, let alone as my husband.”

“It’s miraculous, isn’t it?” Castiel marveled as his hand cupped the back of Dean’s head, finger carding through the short hair. “Someone must have been listening to our prayers, whoever they were.”

Dean nodded and chuckled, “I almost don’t believe it.”

Castiel pulled Dean down and pressed kisses to each of Dean’s cheeks. “Good things do happen, husband. If I have faith in anything, Dean, I have faith in us.”

Dean buried his face in Castiel neck and pressed a light kiss into the skin. He murmured, “Me too.”

Their wedding night together was perfect; everything they could have hoped for. Dean and Castiel left on their tour of Mannazlund the next day and everywhere they went, their reputation preceded them. They were met with open arms in every town and village. The story of the handsome knight and his mysterious fae lover became well known across Neamhia. When they continued their tour into Neamhia, they were called inspirations and celebrated as harbingers of change.

Castiel and Dean settled in Carlow Keep permanently, which worked well due to its proximity to Neamhia. They received emissaries from the fae kingdom regularly and just as many human nobles came to stay. They helped to broker a permanent treaty between the nations that guaranteed open communication and fair trade.

. Sam and Sarah married after he graduated from the university as a law scholar while Sarah inherited the Blake estate and advised on several cultural councils. They had children eventually, and, unable to produce an heir of their own, Dean named Sam and Sarah’s children as his heirs in order to continue the Winchester line.

Generations later, stories about the brave knight who was courageous enough to be the first to love a fae and the fae who brought understanding and peace to two kingdoms were quickly becoming legend. In the capital city, a statue of the couple standing proudly together with clasped hands was erected in honor of their memory. On the base of the statue sat a plaque, which read:

_Sir Winchester and his husband Castiel taught the world that love and acceptance could cross kingdoms, change minds and bring peace. We honor their memory by living by their example and continuing their work now and for generations to come._

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading! I wanted this story to feel like a fairy tale; the kind you would read as a kid. Obviously, the frottage wouldn't be included in that :P , but everything else I hope fits that description?
> 
> I've written some other Destiel fics that you can check out here on [AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MissReneeChan/pseuds/MissReneeChan), or you can find me on [tumblr](http://missreneechan.tumblr.com/). I'm always up for a chat and I take writing prompts. Come by and say hi if you have the inclination.
> 
> Thanks again for reading and I love you all!


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